Doesn't Hurt to Ask

A little over a month ago, I was eating dinner at Mason's Restaurant in Minneapolis where I enjoyed one of their fabulous mojitos. I blogged about it here. In the weeks since, I have tried to make my own mojito at home... key word: tried. But instead of continuing to waste expensive liquor and limes, I decided to email Mason's Restaurant. I praised their awesome food and fabulous mojitos, provided a link to my blog post proving just how awesome I think they are, and then very politely asked if they would consider giving me their mojito recipe.

I waited. And waited. And waited. I figured it was probably a dumb idea to ask a restaurant for a recipe and knew they would be WAY too busy to reply to my little email request. And yet, what did I have to lose? The worst that could happen would be a "no" or a "no reply."

But guess what? I got an email last week with the recipe! I was having one of those crappy days at work and was absolutely elated to find that email in my inbox when I got home. Simply head-over-heels-happiness. I think I even did a little happy-dance.

Lesson learned:  it doesn't hurt to ask.

Me with mojito at Mason's Restaurant.

Another case in point... I have previously blogged about my search for the Our Wisconsin magazine's key to the Kia Soul contest - here and here. Charlie and I have been diligently following the clues and map, narrowing down our search to the remaining counties. I've noticed over the past few months that Google searches for certain key words pertaining to this contest have led people to my blog.

Yesterday I received an email from a girl named Hailey on my Hiking with Heather Facebook page requesting the current information from the August/September issue of the magazine and asking if I could help her out. Imagine that... a fifteen-year-old girl willing to ask for something she needed - Hailey, you are awesome.

I happened to be in the middle of packing up hiking gear for my Saturday hike with Charlie when I saw that email, but I took a few minutes to take a picture of the magazine page for Hailey and emailed it to her so she could continue her search. (Good luck Hailey)

And later that afternoon, as I was looking for the parking area to a new hiking spot, I pulled over to the side of the road to ask a woman walking by if she could give me directions. Guess what? She knew what I was looking for and was helpful in pointing me in the right direction. Instead of wasting time looking for my destination, I asked for help and was able to get out on the trail quicker than if I'd continued aimlessly driving around.

It doesn't hurt to ask.

By the way, if you haven't already "Liked" my Facebook page, why not click this link and do it now? ...doesn't hurt to ask, right?!

I met an ESA this weekend!

It was a road trip weekend! My mom and I headed to Minneapolis to see Tom Petty in concert, and unfortunately Charlie had to stay home with a dog-sitter. I hate to be separated from her for any amount of time, but luckily this would only be for 24 hours.

Minneapolis is REALLY big compared to our small town of Wausau and while I enjoyed soaking up the atmosphere - diverse people-watching, tons of food options, beautiful cityscapes - I know I couldn't live in a city that size; it's too much constant input and not enough nature. But I did happen to find some "rocks" in this metropolis - even if they were man-made!

We had a great dinner at Mason's Restaurant consisting of burgers and homemade potato chips (that were AWESOME!) - and beverages served in mason jars, of course. So cool. I had my very first mojito and I can tell you I'll definitely be enjoying more of them this summer.

The concert had it's good and bad, but we made the best of it. I had gotten seats that were definitely "nose bleed" seats - we were in the 5th row down from the very top. I had never been to the Target Center before and was not prepared for how "vertical" the seating was. It was borderline dangerous, in my opinion. And I had forgotten how seriously afraid of heights my mom is.

We got there early and were adjusting to the seating, but neither of us were comfortable. The seats were extremely small and close together, there was no leg room and each row seemed to be stacked on top of the other. As the lights went down and the backup band started to play, Mom started to have an anxiety attack - the height combined with the darkness was making the whole arena sway and she was afraid she'd fall forward and tumble all the way down. I helped steer her out of our row and down the stairs, one at a time. I quickly realized that we were not going to be able to go back to our seats and was afraid we were going to have to leave. Mom was having none of that. So we hung out in the concession area while the backup band played and when Tom Petty started, we stood against the stairways just inside the arena doorways on our mezzanine. Unfortunately the "ticket helpers" were determined to get everyone in their seats and keep the entrances clear, which I completely understand - it's a fire code safety thing. But because I wasn't going to make her go back to our seats and risk her safety, we played this "cat-and-mouse" game and retreated to the concession area or bathroom every time they came through to clear people out of the area.

We grew tired of the game after awhile since the ticket helpers were getting more direct with their enforcement, so we left early. Even though we didn't get to see the whole show, we had fun and enjoyed the time we were there. It was only 10pm when we left and the city was alive with sights and sounds. The air was warm and breezy so we took a leisurely stroll back to the hotel, people-watching the entire time. Along the way, we came across a street musician with a dog. I'm a sucker for dogs - everywhere I go I'm constantly pointing out dogs and asking if I can pet them. So, of course, I asked if I could pet his dog... and as I did so, the dog got up and came towards me as if it knew what I had asked. I crouched down to pet the dog and talked to his owner.

I asked the usual questions - how old is he, what's his name, etc. So when he told me the dog's name was "Deathrow" and I gave him this look that I'm sure he's seen a million times before when people learn his dog's name, he showed me the rectangular ID card on the dog's collar that identified him as a Service Dog, Name: Deathrow, Type: ESA. I had just learned about Emotional Support Animals (ESA's) last week through a favorite blogger of mine, Gigi Griffis. Her dog, Luna, is an ESA. Also I had heard a radio program on NPR last week about airlines using ESA's to comfort passengers waiting for flights in airports. How fitting that I got to meet one this weekend!

When I asked what kind of dog Deathrow was, the man replied, "he's part Cowardly Lion and part Luckdragon." I told him that I could totally see both those traits! I wondered how many people would know what a Luckdragon is. We put our donation in his guitar case and received a song in return, but the real reward was being comforted by this ESA while being separated from my own dog.

Sometimes you just need to hug a dog.