I Messed Up My Farmer's Tan

As a public service, I keep my shirt on in the great outdoors. Just as a kindness to others. Yeah, there was last year when we went to the beach and I was all topless, but as a rule I have on a shirt. (And pants too. Always with the pants, that’s me.) This gives me a quite wonderful farmer’s tan. It, my farmer’s tan, is my pride and joy.

But now, it’s ruined.

This weekend I took Soupo camping. And he took a friend of his. And he took his dad. There was four of us and we had a (mostly) good time.

At the crack of nine-ish we hit the road for Hueston Woods. It’s a park just a bit up the road. It’s not super-great, but for an Ohio state park, it’s pretty Jake. We rolled in and let the boys pick out their favorite campsite. Like it really matters where we camp in the big field. Well, actually it does matter some. Not much, but some.

See, the boys didn’t look at the big picture when they picked out the campsite. They looked at the playground. They wanted the campsite right by the playground. Unfortunately (for them) that one was taken. So the picked out the one right next to the site right next to the playground. Right next to the other people that were set up. So there was three of us in a row. And another site in use right behind us. And the people across the road. (Not chickens, people. I don’t know what the chickens were doing over there.) All in all we were centrally located in a clot of campers. (Not like RV’s but people camping.) This is not prime campground etiquette.

You’re supposed to treat campsites like urinals. Not just that you can pee on them at night, but you’re supposed to leave a “buffer zone” around your site so you don’t have immediate neighbors. It’s just the way things are. And there was whole swathes of non-taken sites. But they weren’t playground adjacent, so they were less good. OK fine, we’ll just stay in the site the boys picked. Then we set up camp and hit the trail!

I like hiking. It’s fun. It’s even more fun if you don’t get lost. But I wasn’t leading, so it wasn’t my fault. And it was a loop trail, so we weren’t that lost. Yeah, we had to walk all the way around the loop an extra time but we are hardy men! It wasn’t a problem. It wasn’t much of a problem. (Oh! And I forgot to pack the suckity straw for my water bladder in my pack. That sucked, not having my suckity straw for my water bladder! Here I was, being all fancy-pants with my special hiking stuff and I forget the piece that actually makes it work! Poor me. I had to drink out of water bottles like everyone else.) (I also forgot the ketchup and mustard, but that wasn’t a problem til dinnertime.)

Now back to camp for a little smackeral to quell the rumbley tumblies of the boys and off to the lake! Lakes are supposed to be green, right? They are if they are in Ohio and all the feeder creeks run past farms with loads of stuff you really don’t want to be swimming in anyway. But it was hot, so swim we did. Well, not swim so much as walk around in the water. The green water. (Did I mention the lake was quite verdant?) And me with no shirt on! (I didn’t want to ruin my nice shirt.) It ruined my farmer’s tan! My shoulders got “color”. The color is a pretty pink, but just a little so it’ll probably turn tannish. Not the white it was. (Yes we did have sun block. Just not on. It was back at camp where it was safe.)

After the lake, it was time for dinner. (The boys had a definite pattern for the whole trip: run around like maniacs, then eat stuff.) But before we could eat, we had to build a fire. You need a fire to cook up some Pigs Inna Sleeping Bags. You also need some ketchup and mustard to dip your Pig Inna Sleeping Bag in, but unfortunately the camp store only had ketchup. But there was:
A) a fire
2. s’mores for dessert.
So the whining was minimal.

The boys spend the rest of the night running around like maniacs and playing Go Fish. And eating. They ate a lot. But a good time was had by all and we stayed up to look at the stars, and Soupo’s friend said he had so much fun he’d do it again.

Yeah kid, we’ll see.

We’ll see how much rum I can pack, then we’ll discuss taking you along again.

Tah dah! Am I first?

A smackeral? Is that like a ‘smores with mackeral? Or did you take the kids back to camp and smack ‘em around. Either way, it just doesn’t sound good. Mackeral and marshmallow on a graham cracker would be ick. Smackin’ the kids around wouldn’t be very nice. Also, while peein’ outdoors is fun, one should never pee on ones campsite. I think it a very wise rule to never pee where one sleeps. That’s just me.

Oh, and I am nicely brown all over myself. Course I did that on purpose. Being in the pool in a skinny bathing suit and no shirt will do that. Well, that and using a SPF 4 sun screen. Or is that sunscreen. I can never decide if it should be two separate words are one big run together word. Like sun block. Or sunblock. I just can’t decide which is better. Maybe we need a poll to decide how we’re going to spell sun screen/sunscreen and sun block/sunblock.

-swampbear (or should that be swamp bear)

Yes, wahoooooo! Ahem… Now to respond like a nice person, not raised by wolves, ought.

I gotta say I’m glad your farmer’s tan was ruined, but you should wear sunscreen! No cancer for you Rue! You should remain a light hue. <—I rhymed. You can tell I’ve been awake a very long time. Dunno about the packing of rum, but you can take me camping any time, you think you might be rummed up enough because we completely agree on the campsite buffer zone. Preferably trees and bushes as well as distance.

The food frightens me a bit. Smackeral? Is that like a fish who wops ya one before you eat it? You did serve beans with the pigs in a blanket, right? 'Cause I believe it’s illegal not to.

Time for bed. 'Night swampy, 'night Rue.

Ashes [sup]2[/sup] has been drinking! I just know it. That’s why she’s just now going to bed. She’s been up all night. Maybe she needs a nice bowl of smackeral, a glass of milk and her blankie. Or would that be blankey? See, there’s another one of those funny words.

Aww, Rue, your poor farmer’s tan! I know how proud I usually am of my nice pink arms and pasty white shoulders, so I truly feel your pain.

This weekend, I got bloodwork done. Please, try to contain your jealousy. It was actually quite a bit less annoying than it could have been. My appointment wasat 8:15 Saturday morning (usually, I make Saturday appointments at ridiculously early times, because I like to think the dentists and blood-takers aren’t backed up yet at that hour). I got to the lab at 8:00, I was whisked right back to the little torture chair, and a charming young man who appeared to be listening to Whitney Houston’s first album (which startled me–especially when I realized I knew all the words–because he didn’t look like a Whitney fan) tied a rubber tourniquet around my arm in a most displeasing fashion–made all my arm-fat pooch over and it looked highly unattractive. And it hurt. I mean it really hurt. I didn’t feel the needle at all because the damn tourniquet hurt so bad. Two different doctors had sent me for bloodwork, so they took three vials of blood. Then they sent me on my way, and I was back in my car by 8:14. Not a Twinkie or a cup of orange juice in sight. They didn’t even offer to let me sit for a little while.

But I’ve got one of those beautiful bloodwork bruises working itself up to spectacular in my right elbow-pit. I’ve been taking Excedrin for my headaches recently, which contains aspirin, which makes me bruise even more easily than I usually do, so I’m expecting something truly amazing.

And then I sat around my house and rejected all responsibility until yesterday afternoon, when I vacuumed.

Oh, and I had some ice cream. :slight_smile: And as the Queen of the Pale People, I say “sunscreen.”

Ouchy Draelin! :eek: If two doctors sent you in for bloodwork (or is it blood work?) why did they take three samples? Are they gonna hold on to the third one just in case another doctor wants some too? I guess that’d be convenient seein’ as how you wouldn’t have to go back to give em some more blood cause they had an extra already there.

A charming young man listening to Whitney Houston. :dubious: Hmm… I say… Hmmm… :dubious:

My weekend was spent reading Sampiro [search for “hacksaw” and start reading]. So it was a weekend well spent.

And I finished a shawl, since tonight is Knitting Guild, and I expect to see you all there.

Flurry is actually growing some fur! Although she had to ask, “Whose bright idea was it to get me to grow fur when it is 100 degrees!!!”

I think I woke up singing the Hacksaw Song.

I call my tan a golfer’s tan, 'cause I got it early June when I went on my one day of golf each year. But I bet it looked a lot like Rue’s farmer tan (until he went and ruint it.)

Ooh, bloodwork. Yuck. I’ve got veins that you could hit with a dart from about 8 feet away, but this one, in the Navy (not band camp), a corpsman took three shots to draw blood and failed each time. The resulting bruise reached from my wrist to my shoulder.

You silly silly people. Smackeral is a dish that’s mentioned in A Clockwork Orange. I don’t know what’s in it, but they eat it all the time. When their not out doing a bit of mischief, that is.

And should Jake be capitalized when used to describe something good? I’m just asking for information - there’s no blame in my voice.

This weekend we started opn the grey jigsaw puzzle. I swear, 1000 pieces, all various shades of grey. You can belive that the GF has been getting a lot of abuse for it.

Good morning, y’all.

You may :dubious: Hmm… at that, but I’m still waiting for a cite for

Draelin, I hate getting blood taken too. I’ve only had to have it drawn twice, and it’s sucked both times. Thank goodness the local place here is going to oral swabs for HIV testing, but I think that I’ll still have to have blood drawn for other kinds of tests.

I forgot to tell youse guys that my pervy (but cheap) hairdresser/hair dresser confirmed my hypothesis that I’m balding. My mom had said that it was just the way that my hair was cut. So now I’m trying to decide if I want to wait a while to do anything about it, to where people will notice, and say “Ooh, he’s slightly balding. How sexy.” or try using something on it now to stop it from running away. Do Rogaine products actually work? I use my “diet pill logic” on them, as in, if they actually worked, everyone would be using them.

Should’ve seen us trying to put together my uncle’s Star Trek puzzle. A ship in the middle, that didn’t touch any of the edges, and the rest filled with tiny white dots and black space.

Camping? Did you say camping??? Whatever possessed you to take young boys and dads camping without the rum? That is one of the most critical items to pack, silly. And of course you need your suckity straw to suckity up the rum that you’ve stowed in your “water” bladder. When I camp, my campsite (or is that camp site?) has a big sign over it that said “Holiday Inn”… with a fully stocked bar.

I have no idea. They took two big vials and one little vial. I couldn’t read any of the handwriting on the bloodwork requisition forms or whatever they’re called, so I don’t even know what my doctors are looking for. If it helps narrow it down (and it really won’t–it’ll just be TMI for some), the two doctors who sent me were my psychiatrist and my gynecologist. I can only assume that they are looking for two completely different things.

In other news, Day Two of the Great Receptionist Flake-Out of 2005 is well underway. She hasn’t shown today, nor has she called. I’m guessing that she’s never coming in again. (If it turns out she was in some horrible accident, I will take back all the bad things I’ve thought about her and buy her a big thing of flowers and a teddy bear.) Which means that I get to be the receptionist. Again. The PTB fired the last full-time receptionist in October. In December, we got somebody part-time, two and a half days a week, while they “looked” for someone else (also only part-time). That “someone else” got found in May, and I spent the better part of two weeks training her. Now she’s abandoned us … and I have a hard time believing that they’re going to hire anybody new. It’s all me, from here on out. Which makes me the Office Assistant, the Internet Department (the whole department, just me), the Receptionist, and the unofficial Knower of All Things Word and Excel, as well as Human Spellchecker.

Looks like I picked the wrong week to stop sniffing glue.

draelin, how’s your resume lookin? Up-to-date? There ARE other places of employment where dress isn’t stuffy.

Mr. Anachi on Farmer Tans and Bruises

Not only does he have farmer tan cause, like rue, he wears a shirt all time, but he also has sock tan.

As far as bruises go, I think I already tole ya all about Mr. Anachi’s catheterization bruises, nuff said.

I like getting a nice “kinni tan” in the summer. Not a very good one this year but prolly just as well cause if I keeps it up, I’ll become Lizard Lady. :stuck_out_tongue:


Yeah, I’m beginning to come to the same conclusion. Gods know I’m highly overqualified for this job–I’m just a painfully lazy underachiever. :slight_smile:

My best case of farmer’s tan wasn’t even a true farmer’s tan. I went on a cruise several years ago, and one day wore a bathing suit with a high neck, and exposed arms (of course). So, I got the red arms, and the white neck. And of course, it was formal night, so I had a black dress with little spaghetti straps to enhance the look. Red arm - little black strap - white neck. Just about the most attractive I’ve ever been, I’m sure.

I don’t have a farmer’s tan right now, which is a good thing, because I would have ruined it this weekend, 'cause I did have my shirt off.

waits for all males except swampy and CD to start breathing again

Of course I’m just being silly - I had a bathing suit on! One of my many bikinis. See, once you lose weight, you must show it off! And in the last year, I’ve strengthened my stomach muscles a lot, so I look pretty nice. Nope - not vain at all.

And for Monday morning - short-skirt-alert-level is:
Blue - Skirt is just above the knee, at an age appropriate length, and fits very nicely. Shirt is pale yellow and semi-sheer, but not hugely disruptive for the work environment.

And for my weekend, I got my hair cut, assorted facial waxing, drooled over the gorgeous new fall clothes in Ann Taylor Loft (Purple is in! Yay! That’s my favorite color!), and cleaned up cat puke. Oh - and read Locked Rooms. It was alright.


I completely ruined my farmer tan this weekend, too. We went to the Gay Pride Parade and Festival, and I wore a tank top.

My shoulders, especially the right one, are completely scorched. I’m not pleased.

My farmer’s tan is subsidized by the government so that I can better compete with those tans from Asian and European tan conglomerates. Yeah, you read it right: I get paid to not have a tan.

It’s sweet.

See, but NONE of you has a “trucker’s tan”. You know, the one arm tan. Mr. Taters used to excel at those. But now, since we have the boat, both of us have all over tans. Okay, okay, not completely all over because well, we’d get a ticket or go to jail or something if we tried nude tanning. Besides, I don’t want people to have to wash their eyeballs with bleach if they saw me all nekkid and stuff.

I’m supposed to be packing for our camping trip. But…I just needed to sneak in here and say hello to all my MMP pals. I am however, making tater salad to take on the camping trip, so I’m not completely ignoring the packing chores. The taters and eggs are cooking right now.

We will be camping for four days. I just found out yesterday the campground does not have shower facilities. My hair will be truly frightening when we return.

So camping packing list includes steak, chicken, ground sirloin hamburger patties, hotdogs, assorted buns, bread, fruit, soda, beer, Mikes Hard Lemonade, chips, bacon, eggs, peanuts (gotta feed the chipmunks), tater salad, some other side dish I haven’t thought of yet, maybe beans, (but well, beans and Mr. Taters are a scary combo), water, and ummm, I need look in the pantry to see if I’m forgetting anything. There will be no rum, alas. We figured the Fat Tire and Mikes would be enough.

There’s the usual other camping gear, tent, sleeping bags, air mattress (yes, I’m sleeping on an air mattress; I’m camping, not backpacking), camp stove, BBQ, cast iron pan, propane for stove, long-assed camping lighter, batteries for the air mattress blower upper, camping lamp, flashlight, paper plates, utensils, firewood, clothes, bathing suits, boat, skis, tube, life jackets, wet suits, towels, dish soap, people soap, I think that’s it. I need to do my partitioned list (food; tent stuff; clothes; toiletries).

I still need to run down to the grocery store and buy ice, a half gallon of milk, firewood, and s’mores supplies.

I’ve had the bloodwork thing done numerous times. I ALWAYS look and they always tell me to look away. That’s stupid…I’m going to watch where you’re sticking the needle, so calm down and do it! I used to have to go in every damn week. I was an old pro at it.

Well, **Mr. Taters ** is booting me. So, if I don’t get a chance to return, have a good week y’all and I’ll post on Friday, if I can.


(Have a good trip!)