Adventures of Sponge Bob and the Quince

Yesterday marked a couple of firsts in my life, and the photograph serves as evidence of my efforts. 

Don't look too closely at that jar of jelly.  It's not exactly crystal clear, but it's still kinda pretty.  

That's my first-ever attempt at quince jelly.  Ever since a visitor pointed out that the bush, which I thought was loaded with concrete pairs,  was really a quince, I've been thinking and considering all things quince.

I've had quince on the mind cuz that tree put out a lot of fruit this year, pretty much like my zucchini, which, by the way, took a trip to the Colburn transfer station yesterday.  

The last dozen or so of my mother lode of zucchini for growing season 2013 didn't even rate a spot at the Colburn Mall, which serves as a satellite store to the transfer station dumpsters.

Without guilt, I flung zucchini after zucchini into dumpster No. 8.  And, nobody raced across the lot to rescue any of them----not one squash!

I did save two here at the Lovestead, just in case I want to make one more food item that calls for zucchini.  So, I've got a couple of mighty relieved squash, and they're doing their best to behave while sitting atop a bucket of apples in the garage.

Anyway, back to the quince. I'm willing today to play the zucchini card and broadcast loudly that if anyone out there that I'VE GOT QUINCE, and I'm quite willing to part with most of it.

Yesterday's first-ever jar of quince jelly is okay.  I have tasted it, and if you're a quince lover, it's probably really good.  That strong after bite, however, does not tantalize my palate to pig out on quince.  

So, give me a call if you need a quince fix.  I've had mine and am totally satisfied, maybe even for a lifetime.   Sorta like I was after making the gooseberry jam a few years back.

My other first yesterday netted that cute little SpongeBob.  He'll hang out with me from now on as a symbol of the first-ever geocache I've ever found all on my own.  

Now, the road to SpongeBob was a little hazardous, and I was thinking that this geocaching may be as dangerous as it was for Bill when he first started.  

The sport landed him in the ER twice in about a year------broken toes once during winter caching and a dislocated shoulder on a spring run to Priest Lake.

In my case, I decided my first cache would be that one on Woodside Road.  It's in the neighborhood, and I never really looked at its specific location when Bill found it, so it was fair enough for starters. 

I pulled in, after my cell phone app told me, indeed, that the cache was located just off Selle Road.  After searching for a minute in vain and seeing a dump truck coming my way from the north, I decided to get back in the pickup and not give away the fact that I was geocaching.

After all, geocachers don't want "muggles" to know what they're up too.  I've accompanied Bill and Annie enough to know that.

The dump truck pulled to a stop.  It was Dennis Warren, and he wanted to talk because it's been about a year since he last brought us a load of gravel.  

I kept backing off toward my pickup cuz I couldn't really hear Dennis very well anyway. Suddenly, a Wood's Hauling and Crushing truck came turning off from Selle Road to Woodside Road.

I'm thinking Dennis' dump truck probably shielded the driver's view of that white pickup with a woman standing next to it. 

This morning, the fact that our white pickup is not accordian-shaped makes me very happy.  Fortunately, the driver was able to stop before pushing the pickup to Bonners Ferry. 

I won't go there again to geocache.  The cache might still be there, but the "fear of God" and a potential smashed up pickup are too fresh in my mind.

So, thankful for life and an unscathed pickup, I drove on home, figuring that this geocaching may be too hazardous for a klutz like me who can find trouble with her eyes closed.

Later, I decided to give it another try.  

After driving North Kootenai Road, Selle Road three times,  Forest Siding Road once and South Center Valley Road and watching the blue bubble get farther and farther away from the exclamation point icon, I finally pulled into Selle Grange parking lot, aka Enchanted Events, and found that the app offers a link with "all information."  

That's pretty helpful because I learned what I already knew from following Bill on cache searches that start out at three quarters of a mile, only to stretch to two miles, back to half a mile, etc., that one has to remember the routes birds take.

Most birds don't geocache, and they don't carry technology to figure out where to perch every night. 

Okay, the cache is over on Hidden Valley Road, and it's less than a mile away from my house cuz the birds dropped it there. 

Once I figured that out, I drove to the cache, accident free, walked around for a few minutes and then found SpongeBob tucked away in his tupperware container.

Forgetting to bring a trinket to exchange for SpongeBob, I threw in a book of matches.  Besides my car keys, that's all I had in my pocket.  

I figured I needed the car keys. 

Anyway, SpongeBob and I will be forever friends as he reminds me that I finally figured out how to geocache on my own and to stay away from Woodside Road when the trucks are moving. 

One cache down, more than two million more to find.  I guess I've got work to do.

And, if someone doesn't call up about those quince, I'll have to take another trip to the transfer station.  Maybe they would be good items for the mall produce bench!