Yum. Okay, so yeah. We hung out, drank some wine cocktails, played games, drove around on the boat and laid out. It was everything a cabin weekend should be. And because there were no boys there, it was very relaxing. Then, on the way back into town, my sister-in-law Leah suggested that a few of us stop for pizza.
Leah and Kim and I, who all drove together, thought "Okay, fine. Let's quick stop for pizza." Leah had read about a place that was like 20 miles off the beaten path. On a farm. I was skeptical, as usual, because I don't like new things . Especially when it involves a farm.
But the sign looked nice enough.
Cute. I love a good ol' pink sign, and I was really excited to sit near a pond, eating some 'za and enjoying the day with friends. What we found was this.
Oh. So, it's like a FARM farm. Okay. Let's find this restaurant.
Oh. Okay. So, there's the "restaurant". Cozy...? I was swatting at a billion flies while we decided what to order. There were only about three options, but it was tough to decide, what with all the weird ingredients. Wood nettles? Watercress? WTF? I wanted a cheese pizza. With no manure or flies on it. Well, we order a pizza and the woman says "Okay, it'll be about an hour. Go walk around the farm or set up your blankets and chairs on the hill next to that pile of old tires."
One, we didn't bring the picnic supplies the website suggested, because we were all "Let's get it to go because we are so tired we really want to get home." Two, Kim and I had flip flops on and I didn't want to go strolling around the tall grass near the swamp, full of manure. I DO have standards, y'all. We didn't want to get rabies, so we stayed close.
Um, also...AN HOUR?! ONE FULL HOUR!? I texted Geo and said "We'll be home at never o'clock."
Now, I personally do NOT enjoy seeing where my food comes from. I don't want to see a cow standing in his own feces, covered in flies and then be all "Yum, can't wait to drink that milk!" Yuck. But Leah and Kim insisted that we walk to see the sheep we had passed on our way to the oven. Between the smell, the sights and the sounds of them feeding, I nearly hurled.
I got grossed out, so we went back to little pizza shanty and just sweat. Yeah, did I mention it was a gamillion degrees? You guys? It was the hottest I've ever been. My history of hating heat is well documented here and here. But it was SO hot out and there was no wind, no hint of relief in sight. It was MISERABLE. I was cranky, hungover, tired, and the flies were thicker than Jennifer Lopez's hair. At one point, I felt sweat drip all the way down from my neck, down my back, all the way down to my ankle and it sizzled as it slid onto the gravel ground.
I'm sure Leah and Kim did NOT appreciate my constant whining. But I was so dehydrated, hot and sticky that the only thing that made me feel any better was to just talk about how dehydrated, hot and sticky I was. I asked Kim to spit on me for relief. She declined. Everyone else seemed to be enjoying the wind-free hell weather, and that was only making me angrier.
One and a half hours later, I couldn't handle it. My shirt was soaking wet. My throat was so dry I was afraid that my vocal cords were going to spark like a match and start a fire inside my body. I didn't have the energy to complain any longer, so Leah and Kim told me to go sit in the car and turn on the air conditioning. They'd wait for the pizza. In peace and quiet.
Well, almost an hour and 45 minutes after we ordered, we all get back in the car with out steaming hot pizza and were off.
So, was it worth it, you ask? Was the pizza good enough to warrant going through Hades to get it?
I guess so!
1 comment:
You captured it well. I think I'm going to take it easy with the "let's do new things" for a while!
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