how do you tell a cucumber?

Or a broccoli, or an orange or the differences in pricing as revealed in units, for that matter.

This post could be called a number of different things, for instance:

* Why I don't ever, ever want to live in the South
* Readjusting to reality
* Where is spring and what did you do with it?

But as for the cucumber - I admit it. I really don't know my way around Winco, or any supermarket for that matter. Of three daughters and two sons I hail as the youngest daughter and so never bothered learning the skills needed for survival in an urban jungle. I can cook. If you give me all the ingredients and have a comprehensive insurance policy. So my long-suffering mother is attempting to teach me to tread through the paths of Winco.

"See this broccoli?" I love broccoli, so I'm all ears. "It's priced by the pound. You don't want a lot of stem; choose the shorter of the two." She holds up two heads of broccoli and I notice that, yes, one has a longer stem - inedible weight. I'm intrigued. I learn how to determine the juiciness of an orange, to judge the freshness of a red pepper (another favorite) and discover why it's a waste of money to buy pre-made salads. "So how do you tell a cucumber?" Apparently by checking that it is not to thick, not too thin, not gouged at all, not wrinkled or smushy. I have a long way to go.

As afore hinted at, I'm at home. When I left Moscow, Spring was just beginning to appear. The snow was fighting a losing battle, but it was still fighting. Beautiful one day, snowing the next, an altogether delightful mix of weatherish confusion. I forgot I hail from the desert. In the Northwest, yes. But a desert, none the less. Desert = Dry. Desert = Arid. (remember I just finished a year of much snow and coldness.) Desert certainly does not equal 60% humidity. But that is what I came home to. Heat is not my thing. Adjusting to arid heat is one thing. Adjusting to humid head is a whole new thing. And when you go from winter to the middle of summer with barely two days of spring to ease the shock....

Let's just say that today while working with the horses I was seeing more black than horse. I've learned from experience that when the world dissapears completely, hit the ground. Fast. And hope you don't have a horse staring at you wondering what on earth you are doing down there.