The joys of camping at Pismo and at home, too!

I thoroughly enjoyed myself last weekend, camping with good friends at Pismo Beach. It was super relaxing, beautiful scenery, great company, and did I mention relaxing? Just what I needed. I was so relaxed I forgot to take any photos!

Little did I know that I would be "pretend camping" for a few days back at the Hacienda. Yesterday, in my quest for ultimate health and well-being, I cut up half of a cantaloupe along with some strawberries for breakfast, and decided to put all of the rind and seeds and pulp down the garbage disposal. In my defense, I did NOT deposit said rind, etc., in the disposal whole. No, no, no. I dutifully cut the rind into smallish pieces, and fed it into the disposal. Let me add here that it sounds like it could grind the entire house in one swoop...kind of a turbo disposal. This is normal for this particular disposal.

Anyhoo, later in the day as I fixed myself a salad for lunch, I did not put anything more down the disposal. No need. I ate all that I fixed. Every drop. Hours later I decided to make some coffee and as I emptied the french press to wash it, suddenly the turbo disposal was churning with its usual vigor, but once I turned the turbo disposal off, all the water came bubbling back up. Yum. Not quite believing my eyes, of course, I tried it several times. More and more water bubbled back up. Mr. Fix-it (little Johnny) got home about 9:00ish, informed me that we would need to let the sink sit for at least 24 hours before attempting any type of clean-it-out with chemicals solution. He reiterated to me that no water should be put down the now really clogged drain for at least 24 hours. No rinsing anything, no running the dishwasher, nothing. Period. Hummmm. Much later last night, I trotted outside and rinsed the dinner dishes off with the hose, placed them in the dishwasher, and went to bed.

This morning, as I was outside, cleaning the french press again for my morning cup of joe, it occurred to me that, much like "living Amish" (that's what I called it back in the day, when my kids were in trouble and all electronic devices were off limits, or "on groundation" as Flannery liked to call it), I could grumble about the fact that I was out in the cold, wet yard (it rained a ton yesterday, inexplicably...really, in late June? Go figure.), washing my french press before I even had my first cup of coffee, or I could just pretend I was camping. So, I'm camping at the Hacienda. S'mores, anyone?

Note: For anyone that has never washed dishes outside, see the Thanksgiving post of 2009, where little Johnny pressure-washed all the Thanksgiving dishes, because the turbo disposal took an unscheduled and certainly unappreciated day off. We thought it was the pipes, but now I am thinking it was both pipes and disposal. Whatever. The joys of living in a very charming, albeit old home.