there's no place like gnome.

A new thing for now. In high school, it would have been considered an old thing.

I’m playing in a pit for a musical.

It’s true.

A couple weeks ago, it popped up in my newsfeed. The Blooming Prairie High School was looking for people – high school students and adults alike – to play in the pit for their fall musical, The Wizard of Oz.

Now, sure, I have a flute. The last time I seriously picked it up was, err, early college. I pulled it out again and the fingerings are surprisingly (mostly) still living in my fingers. And so yesterday I went to the first practice. And even though it was sight-reading music that was way too hard at this moment in time, I had fun. And think I’m going to practice and stick with it.

An opportunity to be involved in the community and meet some new people. This new thing will be good … and hard … and require practice and a chunk of time … but, ultimately, good.  #bandgeekatheart

It’s been a while friends. Lots has happened. It’s been so long that I’ve pondered again and again what my first post back should be.

Mushrooms.

So Dave and I are married now. Two months and counting. And being married and finally living together means that we tackle tasks together. Like removing stinky, disgusting mushrooms from the garden.

Last week, I’d noticed some egg-like things appearing in the front garden. They were weird, alien looking. At first, I hesitated to get too close because, obviously, what if they were snake eggs? (Do snakes have eggs? If they do, do they even look like that? Why are they in my mulch? All good and VALID questions from the gal who had a run in with a snake while on the mower a couple weeks ago. Now everything outside is snake related.)

But then, yesterday or so, the eggs hatched into mushrooms. (Phew. Not snake eggs.) Dirty mushrooms. Mushrooms known for their likeness to something male AND for their disgusting smell. I noticed a couple yesterday … and then more this morning … and even more this afternoon. These mushrooms – stinkhorns – can “hatch” in less than an hour. An hour! Mother Nature, you are amazing … and humorously disgusting. Thank you for my first stinkhorn experience.

And so Dave and I, the happily now-married couple, spent time this afternoon removing these lovelies from the garden. Dave shoveled; I held open the trash bag. (All online advice told us that they need to go in a bag and in the trash. Yes, sir.)

Yes, marriage! Boo, stinky mushrooms!

I’ll be back with more; promise.