In trying to find a new dishwashin’ show on Netflix, I watched a few episodes of The Riches.  It’s basically a gypsy family who stumbles into the life of a recently deceased (they may have had something to do with that btw) rich lawyer and takes it over for their own.  This, inevitably, led to my desire to one day meet a gypsy.  From a distance, of course, because The Riches portrays gypsies as pickpockets so I’d like to stay a respectable distance away in case this stereotype happens to be true.

So I want to meet a real life gypsy.  I dropped this tidbit of information into my mental Bucket List and moved on to laundry.

But what would happen if I were to, say, simply forget I wanted to meet a gypsy?  The toddler is taking up more and more of my brain space these days so something’s gonna have to give in there eventually, right?

Upon further consideration, I decided the only practical solution to ensure I would actually meet a gypsy someday was to hop on the bandwagon and do the whole Bucket List for real.  Sans bucket that is.  A book is much more practical.

Midwestern Bucket List RW

I rifled around the house till I found this puppy, a travel journal that I carried with me on our motorcycle trips for a few years to record my genius.

Midwest Book 2 RW

There’s no talking on the motorcycle (pretty sure this is why the ‘cycle is The Husband’s preferred mode of transportation) which leaves quite a bit of time for reflection.  Just me and my thoughts.  For miles and miles and miles.

I ripped out the pages I had started in 2005 so I could start my Bucket List fresh.  Or Book List.  Or Bucket Book.  I’m liking Bucket Book.

Midwest Book 3 RW

In the spirit of vulnerability I thought I’d share with you the gems I discovered.

Despite the fact I journaled that having a ten year plan was a bad idea, I started a ten year plan.

In 2005 we were to “Pay off Mr. K.”  This alarms me because I have no recollection of who we were paying off or why we were paying them off.  It’s awfully suspicious.

In 2006 we were to buy a house and make an eight year plan.  Bought the house.  Never made the eight year plan.  Cause, you know, if a ten year plan was a bad idea then an eight year plan must have also been a bad idea.

In 2007 we were supposed to go to Europe.  And the plan stopped there.  Never made it to Europe.  Dang.  Double dang.  Better put that back in the Bucket Book.

Apparently on May 23 of 2005 I “put my feet on Mike’s pillow – HA! HA! HA!”  Mike hates feet on his pillow so this one was pretty funny to read.  Probably less funny for Mike.

I had an idea for a childrens book called The Boy Who Sneezed a Lot.  He left tissues everywhere and you followed the tissue trail to find him.  I am 100% sure this was a passive aggressive dig at The Husband and possibly the prompt for the feet on the pillow incident.  In all fairness, The Husband has gotten much better at his trail of tissues.  You can still track his whereabouts, but you really need a keen eye to do so.

On page two there was my brilliant idea for colored air and proof it’s a good thing I left my poetry days behind me.  Fortunately it fits nicely into the food satire blog theme I’ve adopted here as “Ohio is yellow and butters your skin and sticks to you like pot roast while Kentucky is kelly green and crisp like the snap of a cucumber in half.”  Go ahead and satire me, I deserve it.  Oh, and avoid Ohio because there is butter in the air.   And make toast outside.

Here’s the proof in case you don’t believe me on that one.

Midwest Book 1 RW

I couldn’t make this crap up if I tried.   Well, I suppose at one point I made this crap up but I’ve matured since then so I couldn’t make this crap up now if I tried.

I have a whole page of Motorcycle T-shirt slogans, but I’m saving those for its own post.

In April of 2005 I was hoping to reinvent myself.  That hasn’t gone so well, but I think I’m okay as-is so I’ll just nix this one.

In May of 2005 I started a “WORD LIST.”  Yup, all in caps, underlined and zig zagged around like a superhero.  Only three words made the cut.  Dichotomy.  Explative.  Ecstasy.  Well allrighty then.

OHHHH!  I found a page of ways to reinvent myself!  Awesome.  Good thing I didn’t just leave myself hanging with a goal but no direction on how to achieve that goal.  Clearing throat.

Yoga (fat chance)
Aerobics (even fatter chance)
Drive (I am driven to write you this blog post so CHECK)
Passion (I seem to be oddly passionate about this blog post so CHECK again)
Nature (I really want to be better about knowing my trees and crap so still working on this one)
Author (Yup, I want to write the great American novel someday – but for now I write for you guys so CHECK)

I adopted a new motto – Wax On.  I still use this today so this is possibly the most useful bit of “genius” to come out of the journal.

I started a To Do List, my favorite entry of which is The Great Gnome Swap.  Go around.  Swap people’s gnomes out.  Scrap the wax on thing, this is clearly the most genius idea to come from the journal.  I bet Abby over at Abby Has Issues would do The Great Gnome Swap with me (as long as her place was off limits . . . unless her gnome Uncle June has been mouthing off then she might want to scare him back into submission.)

DSC_3295 enh resize watermarked

I had a page of magnetic poetry.  You remember those right?  Stick all the words on the fridge and come up with something crazy.  This is a family blog so I won’t share all of them (can I just say, yikes) but one of the last poems on the page was “We eat rain blue white juice.”  I really hope it wasn’t rain from Ohio because blue white juice AND butter sounds like a tummy ache waiting to happen.

Lastly, I had two pages of things I learned on the way to Virginia and a page of things I learned on the way to Arkansas.

This was Virginia on The Blue Ridge Parkway.

Virginia Bike RW

The Husband has been on me to do ride reports of our past trips so I think I will save these pages for that.  As a teaser, I leave you with two thoughts:

Just because it says waterproof doesn’t mean that it is.  Ugh.  I’ve learned this lesson the hard way on many a motorcycle trip.

Midwest Screw RW

And . . . dun dun dun . . .

Naked sandwich eating!

I’m off to find a midnight snack.  See ya all on Thursday for Foodie Pen Pals reveal day (unless my box doesn’t show up before then.  Then we’ll either talk about spam or a lovely dream I had the other night.)

– Joanna

Question of the Day: Tell me something embarrassing so I am not alone here people.


  1. Sorry, but Uncle June and his buddies aren’t going anywhere. However, if you want a real live cat, I’m willing to swap her on over for that sandwich you were talking about.

    Anyway, fun post and fun list! I also don’t have a Bucket List, simply because getting through a day is an accomplishment in and of itself and buckets are used for cleaning at Casa de Abby. But when I was younger I wanted to either be Mariah Carey, a Pointer Sister or the love child of Sylvester Stallone. To ensure this I taught “Get in Shape Girl” classes on the front lawn and gave concerts with foam balls in my shirt. Is that embarrassing enough? I should write a post about that, seeing as I have been less than inspired…See? You ARE motivational!

  2. You can meet modern day gypsies any time you want. Just go to the nearest mall and shop at every kiosk you encounter. They will sell you $20 hair curling or straightening irons for $150. They also have cute $2.00 cell phone covers for $15 and “miracle” skin moisturizers, watches, jewelry, or knockoff perfumes. If you’re ever near a beach community they also run every souvenir and tee shirt shop along the boardwalk (no refunds – no returns). They are the descendants of the Eastern European (mostly Armenian) early gypsies that traveled our country in the early and mid nineteen hundreds. We have the slang termed “getting gypped” from their one-sided business transactions. If I sound cynical, it’s because the mother-in-law usually stops to answer their questions or “tries to be nice” to them by listening to their sales pitches. I do my best to lead her away before any damage is done to her wallet. Oh, yes please to some motorcycle trip stories!

  3. 1) I cried while watching The Biggest Loser recently, and, I guess, 2) I watch The Biggest Loser.

  4. I think I might be Mr. K., so get payin’. 🙂

  5. I have this horrible fear of gnomes. Seriously. If I go to someone’s house and they have gnomes, I immediately start giving them shifty eyes like they may be planning a sacrifice with me as the victim.

    Other things that creep me out that are embarassing:

    1. Toes
    2. Clowns
    3. Dolls (Those big ones that actually look like miniature people)

  6. My poetry was pretty bad. And all of the ones I thought were good at the time…they are by far the worst. 🙁 Oh well. I have no idea why I was encouraged on that path, but it’s good I’m off it.

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