Farmer Boos

As a kid I grew up around gardens.  I lived in Indiana for heaven's sake.  Food was grown there and I was well aware that it didn't come from a grocery store.  My mother and father always had something growing, mostly tomatoes and flowers.  My Aunt Lorene tended her huge vegetable garden up until about two years ago when her sons finally put an end to that after she fell.  When my girls were little she would take them out into her garden and pick cucumbers, green beans, tomatoes, lettuce and whatever else she might have ready in that time of the summer.  That is where they came to realize that produce didn't grow inside the grocery.  I can still remember Madison's fascination with how it did get to the grocery.

Cousin Gabby having a drink by the corn

Moving to Florida gardens gave way to fruit trees.  In the suburbs people had orange, lemon, tangerine, banana, and grapefruit trees.  Our neighborhood was once an avocado grove so at least one tree still adorned every yard.  Our tree only use to produce one avocado every other year so it wasn't a loss when we had to remove it for our new porch.  Losing our beloved pink grapefruit tree was worse.  That tree was always full of huge fruit that smelled as delicious as it tasted.  We had to remove it when we decided to put in a pool.  We still mourn that thing.

Having the trees in my yard made me feel as if I were a farmer.  While I had no interest in actually doing the farming part I enjoyed reaping the rewards.  Tom, on the other hand, took to home and yard ownership by embracing his farming side.  After the pool was built, he planted an orange tree.  It started out as just a tiny thing and he nurtured it like a baby pruning it and feeding it all sorts of nutrients until it grew into quite the orange tree.  While the fruit wasn't the easiest in peeling and eating, it was fabulous juiced.  We got fruit in the spring that lasted into the beginning of the summer months, despite the citrus rats that enjoyed it as much as we did.

That experience excited him so much he decided to try a small garden.  He started out with tomato plants and roses.  Both plants had good days and bad days.  One week we had tons of roses to decorate the kitchen table and another day we had one or two tomatoes that were actually red.   He was very excited when the tomatoes would produce, and I had to stop him from picking them when they were still green.  I would spout out my Midwestern gardening knowledge, despite not having a green thumb or an interest, and he would ignore me and keep on planting odd things that I didn't eat.

His most successful plant was his pepper plants.  These he planted in the front of our house in an area that is full of various odds and ends of plants, trees, and shrubs.  He planted three different pepper plants and these grew in such abundance we couldn't give them away.  That and the fact that they were the hottest and spiciest damn peppers every planted.  He was the only one that could tolerate even tasting one of the varieties and the other two even our Indian friends couldn't consume fast enough.  Eventually he realized that while he had a green thumb when it came to peppers the demand wasn't meeting the surplus and he stopped that crop.

In the last two years the farming bug has bitten him severely.  He returned to trees first, planting a fig tree and a banana tree in our front side yard.  The fig tree scarcely produced fruit in the first two months, something that we hadn't expected and were not prepared for when it came to fig recipes.
He picked them and the tree hasn't produced any more since then.  The banana tree started out small and rapidly grew until now it is taller then me and this morning we discovered that we have the beginnings of bananas!

This year I got into the spirit of farming and worked with a small planter of herbs; spearmint, peppermint and cilantro that I kept separate from Tom's little gardening area.  The cilantro died after a few weeks.  The mints I spent time on until forgot about them as I left for vacation.  Tom, on the other hand, changed things up in his garden and started this time with seeds.  He planted some herbs.  He planted tomato trees.  He planted watermelon.

He planted the watermelon in the front of our house in the same area as the pepper plants.  It is the same area that Elliot likes to spend time chasing lizards in and the same area where we had a nest of bunnies.  When I first saw the watermelon vine I almost pulled it up, thinking it was a weed, but since I dislike anything involving bending over I left it be thank goodness.  The rabbits, however, have not been so kind and it was the grumbling about them that led me to discover the vine was actually suppose to eventually produce watermelon. 

Later this summer we had to remove the orange tree that Tom had grown from a twig as it had contacted some damaging fungus.  We paid to have it cut down and Tom removed the stump.  We spent a few days wondering what to put in its space, but it had nothing to do with anything living.  We were thinking more along the lines of a bbq deck.  Then I went on my three week summer travels and when I returned I found that my husband had finally found his nitch in the land of farming.

Somewhere, when I wasn't paying any attention to the back side yard where we once had an orange tree, my husband had planted yellow squash seeds.  During my month away the seeds grew and grew and grew and suddenly Tom is a southern farmer.

We have had several meals now with our squash, and yesterday I took some up to my mother.  The plant in the meantime is growing bigger and bigger and each time I investigate we have more squash.  I have to admit that it is very exciting.  I love going home to Indiana and walking through people's gardens picking produce and seeing it grow first hand, and now it is finally happening on my own property.  I have had the fun of Connie's pineapple plantation, but those things take years to produce and the process has been slow as has Tom's other gardening endeavors.  Now with the squash and the bananas I think I might just have to buy him some overalls and a John Deere hat and call him Farmer Tom.

Out of the mouths of my babes

Me:  "What sort of snacks and things would you like me to purchase at the grocery this week for school or lunches?"

Darcy: Can you get those peanut butter chocolate chip bars?  I haven't had those in so long."

Me:  "Peanut butter what?"

Darcy:  "Peanut butter chocolate chip bars.  They're so yummy!"

Me:  "Who makes them?"

Darcy:  "Chewy."

Me:  "Chewy?  Chewy who?"

Darcy:  "Chewy brand. They have an old guy's face on the front."

Learning my way around the Odyssey

This past week I began embracing my new vehicle.  I spent a couple of hours reading the entire manual to familiarize myself with all the gadgets.  While I had been a passenger multiple times in the van I hadn't realized all of the perks.  I had no idea that the van had a rear camera.  Madison pointed that out to me as I was turned around and backing up in my driveway.

"Uh, Mom?  You can just look in the mirror here."

Sure enough the picture of the back view of the car pops up in the rear view mirror when you put the car into reverse.  I read about that later in the manual.  A manual that my friend, SueG, who turned over the car to us, never read in the three years she had the vehicle.

"Pfft.  You'll learn all of it as you go.  It's like a scavenger hunt."

The first day I took it to fill it with gas I couldn't get the lid open.  I didn't remember ever reading about the gas lid in the manual.  Nonchalantly, I pushed on the lid hoping that it would just open.  I texted SueG for help, but she works nights and had already texted me goodnight so I got no response.  I looked around the gas station parking lot in search of someone that wouldn't make fun of me.  Then I climbed back into the car and searched.  At the bottom of the driver's side near the emergency parking brake was a lever with a picture of a gas tank on it.  I pushed it.   Nothing.  I tapped it with my foot.  Nothing.  I leaned down and pulled it and ta da the lid electrically opened to allow me to fill my tank.  I thought that was funny.

The next incident wasn't so funny.  I was on my way to pick up Darcy from high school swim team practice when the evening skies opened up and it began pouring rain.  No worries.  This I remembered reading about in the manual.  I looked at the lever sticking out from the right of the steering wheel, saw the wiper picture, and turned the knob.  The wiper came on and began clearing away the rain ON THE BACK WINDOW.  I looked down at the handle and tried it again.  Again the back window got cleared.  Now the rain was coming down in sheets that made it impossible to see the road in front of me.  I hate driving in the rain in the first place and not seeing caused me several moments of panic.  I frantically tried to steer the car through the rain without hitting anything or anyone while trying to figure out the wipers.  Madison tried to help.  Finally, by accident, I hit the lever down and the wipers came on.  Then we laughed.

It wasn't until I was in the same place the next day in the same situation that I thought of the lights.  In Florida if your wipers are on your lights must be on.  Holy crap!  Were my lights even on?  I remembered the manual and reading about the lights.  I looked down to the area to my left where I thought the lights were.  Nothing.  Suddenly I remembered driving the girls in pitch darkness that morning to school.  OMG!  I must have driven them without lights.  I felt the panic coming, but by this time I was at practice.  When I pulled in I noticed my headlights shining up at the building in front of me.  Whew.  I have never had a new enough vehicle here in the last ten years where the lights came on automatically.  Sitting there waiting for Darcy to arrive, I found the light switch on the turn signal handle.  Apparently I have four headlights, two that come on automatically when the car is turned on and two that need to be turned on manually in times of need, I guess.

The other issue that was a learning experience was the opening and closing of the electric doors.  This is actually what got me to read the manual in the first place.  The doors do not unlock when in park, something our Buick does that I'm use to.  I read that I can change that feature, but they don't recommend it in case someone tries to open the door from the outside.  That was enough for my anxiety ridden we-are-sure-to-be-kidnapped mind.  I left it as is.  Problem with that is I can't open any of the doors with the key remote unless both the driver and passenger sides of the door are unlocked.  The rear door is also like that and so far I haven't had much luck with opening that damn door either with the remote or from inside the car.  I think I'm just going to have to take some lessons from SueG.

"I have more gadgets now in this new car that I don't have a clue about."

Ah, the worries of "new" car ownership.  I haven't had that in 22 years since my mother bought me a brand new car after I moved to Florida and my used one blew up on me.  Back then there were no bells and whistles or electronic windows on cars.  I'm not complaining.  I am grateful for the means to purchase a nice vehicle and grateful for my good friend who made it happen.  I'll keep studying the manual, searching in my scavenger hunt for the information and clues to operate it.  Then I'll have to teach both my girls who will someday take over the wheel.

"I'm getting my permit as soon as I turn 15.  I'm not going to be like Maddy and wait."

Oh, boy.

Tick tock the clock is counting down

On Instagram, an app that I use daily, I receive pictures from the NFL counting down the days until the start of football season.  They have been doing this for months now.  The pictures always have a football player and the player's number is used as the countdown.  Clever.  But it is starting to get on my nerves.  Football already?  Baseball season isn't over yet and although I'm not as devoted as my mother I'm caught up in the drama of will the Tampa Bay Rays catch up or not.  And now I'm suppose to move on to football?  Where is the loyalty?  Can we finish up one pro sport before the next one starts?

Now I love NFL football.  I live for Sundays.  It is my religion in the fall and winter.  But with it comes anxiety and stress and seriously I have too much of that right now in my life with the end of summer, the start of school and all it brings, and my new vehicle.  (Oh, woe is me, right?  I'm not really complaining and whining.  These are little things in life compared to the biggies other people are dealing with, but I have a blog to write.)  I'm just not ready for all of that to begin.  Especially when the weather outside is humid and above 90 degrees.  Especially when I receive Twitter and Facebook updates linking articles to injuries my team is suffering in preseason or to articles about how lousy my team is expected to play this year.

I do not follow preseason...much.  I read the paper and wonder why the writers are getting so fired up about a game that isn't really a game.  They speculate about how well a team is going to be based on practices and preseason games and I shake my head.  Whatever.  Preseason is a NFL money maker where they try to lure in the fans that can't afford to pay the big bucks during the regular season.  These fans watch mediocre practices where the no names are working harder then the celeb athletes because they are trying to earn a spot on the team so that they have the chance to get their names in lights.  I don't believe that preseason is a precursor to the year and besides more chance of injury for players I don't see the point.  So I try to ignore it.  I don't get fired up until the month of September.

That being said...check out the picture Steelers posted on Instagram that I took a picture of just to get me motivated for the upcoming year.

Oh, yeah, baby.  Football is coming.  Are you ready?

Happy 4th to our dog

This week Elliot turned four.  He did it without much fanfare because the first and last time we celebrated his big day with special doggie treats he broke out in itchy spots that Tom swears was because of the birthday iced treats we gave him.  Since then the spots have not really gone away and the vet has declared he has allergies to flea bites, which was enough to make us give up the whole happy birthday celebratory party.

We didn't get Elliot until October of 2009 after the obligatory nine week period and after returning from a vacation.  He was 14 weeks by then.  Of course, I marked his birth date, the date on his puppy contract papers under birth.  August 21st. 

Tom figured I was just assuming the date so of course I had to prove it to him and pulled out the folder with all of Elliot's papers in it.  He joined in the search and found his AKA papers that he himself had filled out.  Under DOB he had written August 15, 2009.  I pulled out the puppy contract and pointed to the birth date filled out by the breeder.  Now which one of those do I follow?

Tom shrugged and said the breeder probably just guessed the date and who cared Elliot was born in August.  Yeah, August 21st.  I'm a mom.  I know my kids dates of birth whether I pushed them out or not.

So Happy Birthday to our Elliot who has, despite my reluctance, won over my heart and who has added so much joy to our little family.  And he doesn't care that Tom doesn't know which day he was born on or not.  He just knows he is loved.

Our "new" vehicle

Finally after several years of talking and months of research we have purchased a vehicle. The car of choice was purchased because of two reason.  One, we are a family of height and most of that, especially for the three of them, is in the legs.  Two years ago my husband refused to replace our van with another one.  Now, having driven our van solely for a year, he reconsidered.  Two, my friend's lease on her 2010 Honda Odyssey came to an end with 33,800 miles on it.  It was too good of a deal to pass up.

My friend, SueG, leases a van every three years.  Three years ago I made the comment we should purchase her van when the lease expired.  She thought it a good idea.  I mentioned it to the husband, but never pushed it and the next thing I knew SueG had a new lease and the old van went to the dealer.  The Honda dealer snatches up her leased vehicles as soon as she walks into the lot because, let me tell you, this woman knows how to treat a vehicle!  Despite having two kids in elementary school and a full can't-walk-through-it garage, her vehicles are pristine inside and out. 

I made the suggestion again to my husband about purchasing SueG's van when the lease was up.  Then SueG mentioned it to him.  I really wasn't as serious about the purchase as I had been two years ago because I wanted a Kia Soul.  But my husband just did not want the Soul.  Driving our "full size" rental Impala with his legs smashed up against the dashboard and the seat fully extended to the rear, further convinced him we needed a roomy, large vehicle.  SueG's Honda van lease expiring was the icing on the cake.

He paid off the lease without ever opening the van door.  We tried to get him to test drive it, but for some reason he just never did.  For my husband, that is unheard of.  I never fully realized he had never looked at the van until the title transfer and exchange was finished and we had the van.  I had the van and he needed to go to Home Depot so I suggested we go together and take the new van.  He sat inside for several minutes in shock.  "This is like brand new.  Did she ever drive it?"

For the first four days I had so much anxiety about someone hitting the van my stomach hurt.  The next two days I as if I were just borrowing SueG's van, something I have done in the past.  The seventh day I made it my own.

SueG didn't take a dime for the transaction.  Looking back on it, I realized she should have.  While it was no skin off her teeth as she was turning the vehicle in anyway she still had to deal with paperwork and sitting in the DMV and phone calls to and from the leasing agent.  She took nothing.  She just handed over the keys.  Thank you, thank you, thank you, my dear friend.  You are truly the epitome of goodness and friendship.  And of pristine car ownership.

Freshman

My friend Robin drove home with me from Indiana and hung out with us for a week.  It wasn't the easiest week for someone to visit what with school starting, but she was a good egg about things and pretty much went with the flow as we introduced her to various activities and places.  One of those places was Starbucks.

The only time Robin had been in a Starbucks was with her daughter who ordered a drink for her.  Since that time she had never gone into one.  One day while we started out to grocery show I veered into a shopping area that had a walk-in clinic so that I could be examined and medicated for what I diagnosed as a sinus infection.  I sent Robin and the girls two doors down to Starbucks to wait for me.  The clinic was not busy and I was out, prescription in hand, in twenty minutes.  The three of them were sitting outside happily sipping frothy cold drinks so I ordered a green tea frappuccino and we headed off to the grocery store.  Robin made a comment about how disgusting my green drink looked and refused to try it.  She was quite happy with the drink Darcy had recommended, a mocha cookie crumble frappuccino.  Not even at this point did I understand that Robin was a Starbucks newbie.

It wasn't until she ventured off on her own to a Starbucks kiosk at the mall that I became aware of this status.  We were sitting upstairs at our mall in comfortable seats talking and watching the ice skaters below us while my girls shopped.  Robin was bored and sleepy and decided that what she needed was something from the kiosk below us.  She pestered me to get something, but I wasn't really thirsty or hungry.  I finally gave in to her whining because I knew she really needed something to pep her up so I told her to get me a peppermint mocha frappucchino.  I did not specify a size, remembering that her last drink had been a tall.  I just assumed she was one of those "tall" Starbucks drinkers, which was all I really did not wanted.  Off she went to the elevators.

From my position above her, I watched her as she came around the elevator downstairs to the Starbucks kiosk.  She disappeared from my view for quite some time and then I saw her laughingly talking to a ponytailed Asian woman who had a cell phone to her ear.  Little did I know what was really going on:

Having never ordered before at Starbucks, Robin got into line and studied the limited menu posted.  She did not see a peppermint mocha frappucchino listed and she spent some time wondering what to get me from the menu.  When it was her turn to order she inquired about my request and the cashier told her of course they could whip her up a peppermint mocha frappucchino.  Robin ordered two, asking for "the size after small".  She then paid and moved down the line following the ponytailed Asian woman in front of her.  She stood and watched the barista as she made the orders.  The woman in front of her moved away from the bar and walked to the skating rink, talking loudly on her cell phone.  Someone else took a finished drink and Robin watched as the barista finished up a green drink much like the one I had ordered last time.  She thought, "well, I suppose the mint is green" and, remembering I didn't like whipped topping, she told the barista no whip on one.  The barista gave her an odd look, put on the whipped cream, and set the drink down on the bar in front of Robin.  Thinking that one was hers, Robin unwrapped a straw, stuck it in the green drink, and sipped from it.  Immediately, the Asian woman turned from the skating rink and asked, "Is that your drink? Did you order a green tea?"  Robin looked down at the drink, turned to the barista who was finishing up two other drinks, one with whip and one without, and shook her head.  She smiled and stuck out the green drink she had sampled.  "I guess this is yours, sorry, I didn't know.  I drank out of it."

The Asian woman and the barista did not find it amusing.  I thought she should have said something witty like, "Oh, no, sorry this is yours.  It's quite tasty." or "No worries, I took the first sip and haven't died yet." but Robin just set the drink down on the bar, picked up our two venti frappuccinos, and told them both to have a nice day and walked back to the elevator.

Hearing the story, I laughed so hard that had I been drinking the frappucchino it would have come out of my nose.  That is when I realized she was a Starbucks newbie, who had also been taken advantage of by the cashier who sold her a more expensive venti when clearly she wanted a grande.  That is twice she has been blindsided at this mall.

The first time she came to this mall with her family on the way out of town.  She got sucked into "sampling" some tea from Tevana.  She found it delicious and agreed to order a "small" amount.  Then she got talked into a tin to store the loose tea.  Total for the tea?  $43.

We sampled the tea again just so we could send the above picture to her husband who has never gotten over the $43 tea purchase.  She didn't buy any tea this time.  She won't be sucker punched in Starbucks anymore either.

Look out the window!

My girls are the ones who now insist that we go to Indiana for the summer.  They don't care that we have to negotiate the entire state from top to bottom.  That isn't their concern.  They are kids and they know that if we end up in Indiana it will all be taken care of and they will see everyone they want to see.  For me, the logistics of getting from point A to point B and then to point C is complicated.  Either way it is a lot of driving through the Indiana countryside, which as the years pass, has been a delight for me.  And has turned me into my parents.

"Look at those clouds!  What a gorgeous day for driving.  Are you looking?  Girls!  Girls, are you looking?  Put down your phones and just look at this countryside."

When I was seven years old my grandparents, my cousin, my mother and I drove out west in my mother's station wagon.  Back then kids rode in the very back on top of mattresses that parents made or fixed to fit the wagon, and there were no seats to sit in.  We could sit with our backs against the seat in front of us staring out the back window or we could lie down.  There were no seat belts to restrain us so we had full range of motion to beat each other up interact with one another; play cards, color, etc.  I only have a few memories of that trip out west, but the one memory that my cousin has is my mother constantly telling us to enjoy the view.

"Put down those Barbies and look out the window at the scenery!"

Whenever we would travel with my father, even if it meant going to the store, he would comment on the view, the weather, and the people outside our car.  He would wave at people and act as if he knew them, calling them by a name he would make up.  This was always funny to me and would usually cause me to raise my head from a book or whatever else I might be looking down at.  If that didn't work he would stop the car, or slow down, and always use that phrase from the parents' handbook.

"Look at that sunset.  Do you see it? Just take a look at that!  God dammit, put down that (insert whatever was in our hands) and look out the window!"

As we drove from Florida to Indiana and from one end of Indiana to the other this summer I was always looking out the window.  When I wasn't driving, and sometimes when I was, I took pictures as quickly as I could to preserve the beauty.  I'm so fascinated at the differences in each state from the palm trees in Florida, to the mountains in Tennessee, to horse country in Kentucky, and the farmlands of Indiana.

"Girls, look at those mountains!  Isn't that a beautiful sight?  Girls, are you even looking?  How often are you going to see mountains?  Look out the window!"

I understood them.  I was once a kid.  A kid who had no interest other then what she was doing at that moment.  That scenery stuff?  I would glance at it and wonder what in the world all the excitement was about.  We were in a car for heaven's sake!  A car that we had been in for HOURS and seriously ? all I cared about was stopping at our destination.  But once we reached that destination?  Once we reached the end of the car ride I did see what the fuss was all about.  I saw views that I had never seen before in the state I resided in.  I saw colors I didn't know existed outside a crayon box.  I saw history so close I could touch it.

 

It wasn't until I looked through my girl's photos on their phones at the end of this trip that I remembered that part of my youth; the part where I did look up and see the view.  I have great memories of the beauty of the grand canyon, the geysers, the bears in Yellowstone Park, Canada, the mountains, the beaches, etc.  While in our stories of our youth it is always the oh, my parents! part of our past that we like to tell, but the truth is that we did listen.  

Above 3 pictures taken by Madison

 Looking at the pictures that my girls photographed, I realized that they too looked out the window.

Wrap-up of Indiana 2013 vacation

• The Indiana country side was beautiful this summer.  No drought and plenty of rain left everything green and sparkling.  The weather was cooler then ever before in the summer with highs only in the 80's in the southern part of Indiana and in the 60's and 70's in the northern part.  It rained quite a bit in the north and got colder in the evenings (50's) which wasn't great.  I got some wonderful photos.

 

• Driving wasn't as bad as I remembered.  I haven't done a long road trip like that in years.  I love road trips.  I just don't like driving them.  My husband drove the entire way to Indiana.    We took three days, spending some time in Nashville, TN.   I would have liked to have done more touring of country music places, but the other three weren't exactly behind me on that.

• In South Bend, where we eat out quite a lot, we tried to eat at restaurants we had never been to before.  That proved to be too difficult for Gabby and Susan so we decided to eat at restaurants that they had never taken us to before.  At each restaurant we graded it on a scale from 1-5 with 5 being perfect.  Looking at these numbers, I just think we like eating food that someone else cooks! -  

1. Scotty's Brew House - Tom was with us on this visit, but didn't participate in the ratings since we thought of that after he left, but he did order the specialty, a hamburger with peanut butter and bacon.  I only had potato soup and it was cold.  11 points out of 25 possible.
2. Noodles & Company - I was hesitant about this place at first, but have to admit it was a nice little surprise.  The portions are small or large and salads are an option which I like along with my pasta so I don't feel so full of carbs.  21.5 points out of 25 possible.
3. Alladin's - This was one of those places that Susan had never tried before, but wanted to do so.  It was a Mediterranean restaurant, and since I had just eaten in one in New York City I felt I was an expert.  The restaurant was pricey, but the food delicious.  We had hummus and falafel  for appetizers and everyone tried it.  Austin loved the falafel so much he ordered a side of it with his main meal.  We all agreed this place was a keeper.  I rated it a perfect 5.  25 points out of 30 possible.
4. Villa Macri - This was an Italian/Greek place and we ate there kind of early for dinner.  We were one of only two tables.  I had a spinach salad that consisted of lettuce, egg, bacon, and onion.  It cost almost $10 and was certainly not worth it.  I was disappointed in the service, the decor (which was full of odd greek statues), and my salad.  Susan, on the other hand, ordered a lasagna that I tasted and then tasted again because it was quite good.  18.5 points out of 25 possible.

Tom's burger with fully involved hash browns

•  Before the trip began I learned about ImPRESS nails via the Wendy Williams Show.  Having issues with chewing growing my nails, I decided to research the product and purchase a set for vacation.  They come in short and medium lengths and a variety of color and design.  I found and purchased them at various times at Walgreens, Target, and Walmart.  I see that Amazon also sells them and at a good price too.  They are anywhere from $6.00 - $9.00 depending on where you purchase them.  They are suppose to last "up to a week".  On the Wendy William Show, the celebrity touting them said they lasted ten days. 

 

The first set I put on before vacation.  I put them on upside down and had to reapply them.  They didn't last but a day before nails started dropping. The second set (above) I put on in the car as we traveled.  This time I was patient and put them on correctly measuring sizes and laying them out before applying.  I loved the look when I got them on and everywhere I went I got compliments on my nails.  I did have a nail fall off and I replaced it, but the same nail kept coming off.  The set lasted me four days before a few more fell off and I pulled the rest off.  My nails underneath were not damaged and had actually grown.  I immediately chewed them off.

The next set I put on a week later while in South Bend.  They were a funky design and very colorful.  I felt more exposed with them on, but received the same compliments from various people who were always surprised to find out the nails were press-ons.  The same thing happened with these nails as well, with one always falling off and having to be replaced.  These nails lasted about the same time before I got frustrated and yanked them off.

Susan, on the other hand, bought a french set in medium length and those babies stayed on through everything, even deep cleaning of her house.  They stayed on over a week until she had to remove them because her nails underneath had grown out so much.  Her nails looked great and very real on her hand.

My last set stayed on the longest.  I loved this design and color.  I had one nail fall off, but not until around the third day and when I replaced it it stayed on.  This set lasted almost six days and my nails underneath had grown quite a bit and so far I have kept the length.  I'm trying to grow them a bit more to see if the press on nails will stay on longer, as Susan's real nails were definitely longer then mine.  Darcy also had the fingernails and she also put on a set of toe nails, which lasted a week.  My friend's daughter, Kristen, bought a set and the last I heard they were still attached and going on a week despite her working every day.  I guess it depends on your body's chemistry?  Who knows.  But I would recommend them for a special occasion or when you just want to have some fun.  I spent the same amount on four sets of nails that I would have spent on a professional set of acrylic nails, but the professional set would have lasted me longer.  Either way I have another set that I bought on clearance, plain colored, that I still have to try.

• The last part of my trip was a full day of driving from South Bend back to Evansville where we hung out at my friend Robin's house for another four days before driving back to Florida.  We attended a graduation party and two 50th birthday parties and ate so much cake that I actually thought I would never eat it again and I LOVE cake.  

Robin came back with us to help keep me awake while I drove.  She offered to help in the driving, but I was too anal about the rental car to turn over the wheel because all the rental paperwork said in big letters how I was the only one allowed to operate the vehicle.  The drive back was brutal weather-wise for several hours the first day, and we had to pull over at an exit that only had a gas station.  Since all the truckers and other cars had pulled off as well we all partied in the station.  All in all, except for a sinus infection, the rest of the drive was uneventful and not bad.  Another great vacation in IN.