Pretty in pink, and I'm no southerner

We had an adventure in southern culture on Monday.

We live near the main road that goes west into Fort Myers. Much of the land along the road is full of cows and waiting to be developed. Since it is in the works to be developed someday, the smart road workers created turnoffs to be used someday to go somewhere. For now these turnoffs are about 50 long, like little driveways off the main road that go to nowhere. On weekends you can find all sorts of goodies for sale on these turnoffs-- in the winter you can find plants, trees, bushes, etc., since the winter is planting season. No one asks where the seller got his goods- for all I know he horked them from a jobsite and is making some side cash. Or you can buy Florida strawberries-- they're beautiful, bright red, and beckon as you drive down the road. But they're really tart. Lately I've seen the Jerky man around quite a bit, advertising a selection of THE...WORLD'S...BEST...JERKY, as each sign says. Since it has gotten warmer I've seen nearly complete farmer's markets offering watermelons, "lopes", and Georgia peaches. All of these things tempt my Farmer's Market loving self to stop and give a dollar to the grassroots guy instead of The Man at super-chain-grocer. But none has tempted me more than Todd the Boiled Peanuts Man. Todd the Boiled Peanuts Man has his own truck. Todd the Boiled Peanuts Man has his own trailer, with a real printed sign (not hand painted!) that reads, "Boiled Peanuts Hand Made By Todd." Now up until Monday I've passed Todd without stopping, but Monday I was in an adventurous mood. Heck, I thought, I don't know what Boiled Peanuts are, but if they're $3 or two for $5, they must be good. How could you mess up peanuts?

So we stopped and parted with $5 (because two for $5, what a deal!) Todd reached into the big vats (he had two large kettle looking things on the trailer) and scooped out enough boiled peanuts to fill two 32-oz styrofoam cups. Hmph, I thought. Usually peanuts come in a bag or something. As he handed the bag to us he was careful to twist the top quite a few times, perhaps to seal in the peanutty goodness. I could see some drips in the bag. Hmph, I thought. Peanuts are usually dry. Hmph, I thought a second later as the twisted bag began to un-twist. Peanuts don't usually smell like stewed vegetables. I quickly twisted the top again to stop the gagging.

We decided in the two-minute trip home that the peanuts would not be coming into the house. Brad wasn't so keen on smelling up the garage, either, but since it was raining he conceded. I went inside to do some quick internet research on How To Eat Boiled Peanuts. What I found didn't encourage me. Boiled peanuts are green peanuts boiled in salt water for a while. Various comments online taught me that some people break open the shell and slurp the peanut and salt water out, while other people put the whole peanut in their mouth, break it open and then spit out the shell. Hmph. I've never slurped peanuts before. One other comment, apparently from a fellow Yankee, said something like this. "Boiled peanuts are an acquired taste. People said once you try it, you'll like it. Well, I don't think trying things is the answer. I tried them. I also tried a serious car accident, a hysterectomy, and a divorce, but trying them didn't make me want to do them again."

So we tried them. First of all, the smell is unforgettable. Think ashtray-left-out-in-the-rain, mixed with stewed vegetables-- lots of eau de carrot, some brussel sprout, some broccoli. Then the visual. Seriously, they look like little poops.

I broke one open, not willing to slurp. I tried to pick up a peanut but I squeezed it too hard and it split and fell on the floor. Brad and I both made a face and looked at each other, wondering if we were actually going to go through with it. Then, all of a sudden, Brad picked up the other peanut and popped it in his mouth. And then made a really bad face. "Oh, this is just bad," he said. "You have to try it." I have to try it? With that glowing review how could I refuse? I tried it, and then we ran inside to get a frozen mini Twix to get the taste out of our mouth. And a second Twix.


After we recovered from the vileness, we decided that the poops were not going to sit in our garage for two days until trash day. Instead they were going to live in our Secondary Storage Facility, otherwise known as the vacant lot across the street. That's me giving them a little flying lesson.


On a happier note, later last night I finally made a purse! The stiffener worked great, but I couldn't get the zipper to work out. Since I don't have a pattern I'm just making it up as I go along, and unlike this fine computer, I can't easily go back and insert a step without undoing a lot of tedious stitches. So the first purse went in El Garbagio. I felt wasteful until Mom reminded me that it was a $7 lesson, not $7 wasted. Here is my little pink wonder. The print reminds me of the peonies that I love so dearly.


I even lined it in pink fabric-- so cute-- and put in two pockets. One for sunglasses and keys, one for a cell phone. I need to work on the location of the pockets, though. They're a little too far down.



That's all for now! Tomorrow is our first small group meeting at our house. I'm excited!