You could snort salt up your nose

That is a direct quote from my doctor.

After several months of battling my frighteningly high blood pressure we finally have it controlled and at a near normal level.

All of my lab work has come back normal, so I just have hypertension with no other contributing factors. He was surprised at my sodium levels. He said he expected them to be much higher. He said "You could snort salt up your nose and you probably still wouldn't be in the high range on your sodium level."

That's great news. I love my salt. Not enough to snort it up my nose, but close.

So, I have to continue on my four bp medications and the two prophylactic medications for migraines but I can stop going to the Quantico Medical Clinic every 2-3 weeks. Hallelujah!

Boston - that's a fun place to negotiate

That statement is about as true as "I really enjoy shoving an icepick up my nose." Holy crap!! The overabundance of one-way streets is enough to thoroughly confuse anyone. But, just in case there are a few intelligent people with nerves of steel who have figured it out, they throw in tons of construction and street closures to keep everyone on their toes.

We have a good friend who is a Boston native. He has raved about the "chowdah" at the No Name Restaurant. So, we couldn't very well visit the city without checking out the place.

The No Name is no frills and no nonsense. No frills - there are pitchers of water on the table with a stack of plastic cups. Sodas and beers come in bottles. No nonsense - we walked in the owner pointed to a table by the window and said "here, take your menus." Someone at an adjacent table asked the waiter what was in the chowder "it's a seafood chowder, it has seafood in it. Fish, clams, shrimp and scallops." Then they asked if they could substitute a side dish. The answer "No. The menu is the way it is." I couldn't help thinking of a friend in Washington who would have been very proud of that waiter.

I had the shrimp saute. Shrimp, broccoli, cauliflower and carrots sauteed in beer and butter. Yum-my!! Husband had the chowder. Kevin is right. It is the best chowder in the world - and I don't usually like chowder.

After dinner - and finally making our way out of the city - we just had to drive through the "Big Dig" so husband could marvel at it. I guess you have to be an engineer to appreciate it. It looked like a tunnel to me.

The next day we headed to Cambridge. After walking around Harvard Square and the surrounding area realizing we were probably the only Republicans within 10 square-miles, we headed out. But, not before tracking down the garage of the "Car Talk" guys.

The final day of our trip was spent on the road. We did take a detour through New York City to see the World Trade Center site.

And then sat in heavy traffic all the way back home.

Some things never change.

The epicurean fantasy continued

After we left the state house, we decided to get some lunch before hitting the road to Boston.

The security guard at the state house told us that the New England Culinary Institute operated two restaurants and a bakery in Montpelier.

Say no more!

The Main Street Grill and Bar was a few blocks from the state house, so we chose to walk and take in a few more historic sites.

Our timing was perfect as we only had to wait about 5 minutes for an outdoor table.

The only complaint I had about the place was it was too hard to decide what to order. Husband saw the word "maple" on the menu, so his decision was easy - cider-maple roasted turkey sandwich.

I couldn't decide between the grilled portabello mushroom reuben, the grilled chicken on onion flatbread or the roasted tomato and basil panini. I did what I had to do.

Eenie, meenie, miney mo. The panini, accompanied by a white bean Mediterranean salad, it was.

I have eaten as some amazing establishments in my life, but this place tops them all. I almost licked my plate to get every last morsel.

We reluctantly bid farewell to Vermont's capitol but vowed to return again very soon.

Welcome to the State House. Here, meet the governor.

On our way through Vermont, husband decided to take an unplanned jaunt through Montpelier, just to get a look at the State House.

Since there was a parking place right in front of the building, we decided to walk up and take a look around.

After reading the plaques on the front of the building and on the statue of Ethan Allen, husband pulled on the front door - full expecting it to be locked.

It opened right up.

There was a small desk complete with a guest book and a sign inviting visitors to come right in and take a look around. Wow. No metal detectors. No armed guards at the front door. Not even a local busy-body asking what our business there was.

We walked around, still a bit in shock. There were a few committees holding meetings with the meeting room doors open for all to see.

Now this is how government is supposed to work. Actually allowing the "little people" to be privy to their actions.

We went to the second floor. There was the armed security guard. He was stationed in front of the Governor's office. He was more sheriff Andy Taylor (though he did have a gun) than gung-ho security guard.

He greeted us as we got to the top of the stairs and told us to feel free to walk around.

As we were walking in to view the Representative side of the chamber a very pleasant woman told us there would be a special session convening at 1 pm that we were welcome to attend.

Wow! These Vermont folks are really friendly.

As we circled back around to see the Senate side, the security guard told us that the Governor would be holding an award presentation in a few minutes that we could attend if we liked.

Husband told him that we were not from Vermont. He said it didn't matter. Then he asked where we were from. Husband explained that he was in the Air Force. And then the man-talk started. And I wandered off a little looking at more portraits of past governors until husband caught up with me.

After we viewed the Senate side we walked back around to the governor's office to await the start of the award presentation.

Husband had his back to the security guard viewing a portrait when the guard told me to get his attention. Uh-oh, I thought. What did he do?

The guard waved us over to where he was and then stepped into the governor's office.

Then, out steps the guard with Vermont Governor Jim Douglas and introduces us!

The governor! And he is a Republican!

He thanked us for visiting the state and told us to enjoy our stay and spend lots of money. :)

So, we did out best to oblige.

Vermont - is that an Indian word for Oh-my-God-I-have-died-and-gone-to-epicurean-Heaven?

So, we took the ferry and bid farewell to New York and said hello to Vermont. No offense to those who love New York state - but it was a fond farewell.

We departed the ferry and decided to stop at a little roadside snack bar/gift shop to find out what "Red Hots" are. We had seen signs for them all day and kept asking each other what that were just in case it came to the other in a vision since the last time we asked. They are basically chili dogs. A rather anti-climactic answer in my opinion. I don't know what I was waiting for, but chili dogs wasn't it.

Since we were already out of the Tahoe we decided to wander into the gift shop and pick up some authentic Vermont Maple Syrup just in case we didn't see any in the rest of the state.

Husband is very fond of the flavor of maple, so we meandered through the rather high-priced gift shop picking up various maple-flavored items. Yeah, they saw us coming.

I was intrigued by the Maple Hickory Smoked Cheese that husband selected, so we opened it right there in the parking lot.

OH!

MY!

GOD!!!!!

I am pretty sure this is the cheese served at the reception once you make it through the Pearly Gates.

I had glorious dreams about the cheese that night.

Mmmmm... cheese.

Canada is looking better

Well, we made it up to Binghamton, NY on day one of our trip. This is an odd little place. There are some gorgeous HUGE old homes, but most of them have been turned into businesses. I suspect because they are completely surrounded by the "bad side of the tracks." The bad side of the tracks apparently has no idea where its boundaries are as there are no actual tracks.

We got in early enough and decided to see a movie since the theatre is right by the hotel. Husband didn't fight me at all on seeing Stepford Wives. I was happy and in need of popcorn and a beverage.

With our "evening meal" secured we headed in to the theatre to find a seat.

Apparently in NY they do things differently. I saw a woman with her shoes off and her stocking feet draped over the chair in front of her, I thought it odd also that she was reading a newspaper before the previews started.

Eh, okay. People confuse me sometimes.

As we try to find seats, I begin to wonder if this is a Japanese movie theatre. Only a handful of people have their shoes on. For the most part I am not talking about women secretly slipping their feet out of sandals. I am talking about untie the running/tennis shoes, take them off and then make the last final decision as to whether leave the socks on or off.

Well that makes the seat finding a little harder. Not only do we have to find seats with an optimal view of the screen, now I have to try to discern who is least likely to have offensive foot odor. I have this weird ability to smell things from far greater distances than the husband. I suspect it comes from spending great amounts of time with a Golden Retriever. We settle just few seats down from a woman in Yoga pants and matching jacket and very clean socks and the shoes - on the floor - were as clean as her socks on the back of the seat.

I guess since it seems okay for children to expose their rib cages, belly buttons and much lower, and their ass cracks or at least the thongs hanging out of their pants, that it seemed okay for women to take their shoes off and get comfortable for the movie.

Again, people confuse me.

The movie was very enjoyable. Many more laughs that I originally thought. Even the husband enjoyed some hardy laughs,

Does my husband think I secretly long to be a long-haul trucker

So, over the course of 9 days I put around 3500 miles on my car driving the girls from Virginia to Illinois, Missouri, Arkansas and back to Illinois to visit every single person that could even remotely be considered family. Leaving them in Illinois to spend 2 weeks with husband's mother and sister. Sweet freedom! And sweet ability to get some things done like painting and hanging window treatments.

Or, so I thought.

Husband thinks that after all that sitting on my ass in the car which included a very grueling hair-on-fire drive back home in order to stand in line for 6.5 hours to pay our respects to President Reagan at the Capitol, that it would be fun to get in the Tahoe and just drive up the east coast. Maybe to Canada. Why would I want to get back in a vehicle? And, why in the hell would I want to go to Canada?

But, it appears we are going to do just that. Husband is at the AAA office right now picking up maps and tour books.

If he brings home a Canada tour book, I am going to hit him with it.

As one of my dear friends is often wont to say

People are stupid.

I don't know why I can't stay away from online sites that I know are overrun with the world's village idiots. I guess it is like a train wreck that you just can't avert your eyes from.

How big must the rock be to hide not one, but several military wives, who apparently do not understand that our nation has lost a great leader?

These women are actually complaining about missing their friggin' soap operas because there has been so much news coverage. They are pissing and moaning because they had planned to use services on base that were closed in honor of the National Day of Mourning. And, more stupidly, they are complaining about it for their peers to see and actually expecting to get sympathy. And, sadly, they are getting it.

Yes, people are stupid.

And so it begins

Here it is. My very first post in my blog.

So, you are curious about the title, huh? It is probably the best compliment ever paid to me. My husband is an Air Force officer. His two assignments preceding his current "sentence" to the Pentagon were squadron commander assignments. Shortly after he assumed command of his first squadron, I took baked goodies into the command section. The airmen were quite happy and surprised. One airmen made the comment that "it was like June Cleaver married General Patton." You see, my husband can get a bit fiery when he gets spun-up over the foolish antics of those under his command. When talking just to the First Sergeant or Chief, his speeches tend to be quite colorful. Anyway, the Chief overheard the comment and said that I was too perky and sassy to ever be compared to June Cleaver. He said it was as if Laura Petrie had married General Patton. I was flattered. The Chief remains among my very favorite people.

If you are not a fan of nonsensical, veering-off-course rants, my blog is probably not for you. I am the mother of a 4-year-old and a 3-year-old. I haven't completed a thought on the first try in well over 4 years.

If you are still with me... I will warn you that my life is incredibly boring according to some people in the online world. I love my husband. And, even though his inability to actually get a dish in the dishwasher or dirty clothes in the hamper does drive me crazy, I am not looking to replace him. I have no desire to troll the bars, surgically alter my body or do anything wild and crazy. Well, okay I did get my belly button pierced last summer with a group of friends. But, that little shiny bauble is long gone.

So, that's about it for now. I have dirty dishes and clothes to pick up.