Awestruck! Blown away! Mesmerized! Humbled! Good grief do I love Devils Lake! More than that – I appreciate you.
We parked our big, whimsical Monkey Ball trailer in Roosevelt Park on Friday. We’re just two old people trying to make a living in the summer so we can live in the winter. It’s easy to type that but it’s never the reason we really do what we do. Before the food truck season even begins – one must get a health department permit from the state. Everything is spit shined as if your own mother-in-law was coming in to inspect! Eeek!
Prior to the event – we must get permits from the city we plan on visiting to do business there. Next, the hard part. We have to write checks for each event. Some places allow us to park for free. Other places charge between $150-$3200 depending on the event. As you can imagine, we’d have to sell a whole lot of Monkey Balls, Monkey Weiners and Monkey Slushes just to cover that expense.
Forget about all of the product we must buy, the vehicle maintenance and hotel stays. Eating out is really expensive these days. (On a total side note – I just about died in the grocery store aisle yesterday. A gallon of plain old bleach was $9.95 and the off brand was $7.95!) Food trucks use a whole lot of it in order to insure you’re all healthy. We’ve done the car show a few times and have loved it enough to beg to come back. This time though the “holy wows” touched that place in me that gives me the ponding type of tears.
The second I opened my window – two ladies showed up to say, “Hi Jodi! We read your column.” First of all – I was taken aback that anyone really does read what I write. I’m so thankful I get to because I’m of the feeling group of created humans. Many of my sentences to other people begin with, “I feel.” On a normal day I feel a whole bunch of grace and thanks and love. I feel like writing this column is therapy for me.
You can only imagine how it felt that the ladies stopped by and chatted with me. I’m quite certain that if we would have chatted even a minute longer – we would have solved all of the world’s problems together. Thank you girls for taking time out of your life to find me!
We hired the most affecting young man from Devils Lake off the internet. What a joy he was to have working alongside us. We blinked four or five times on Saturday morning after opening and a line formed. The line never unformed until we finally closed our windows near 7 p.m.
After closing a food truck, you can’t just walk away. You have to clean in case the health department shows up first thing in the morning for an inspection. You have to refill everything with twenty pound bags of ice. Sweeping and washing the floor while flour flies everywhere, cleaning everything and getting ready for a new day takes time. We pulled out around 7:30 p.m. after waking up at 7 a.m.
This will be too much information for some of you and for that I apologize. I tinkled after waking and didn’t tinkle one time during the day until we arrived at the Pizza Ranch for the first meal of the day after a container of yogurt just after my first tinkle. We simply couldn’t eat. The line made us forget ourselves in a quest to bring joy to all of you. I enjoyed so much talking to Everett (“Dad” – you may remember the column I wrote about the man in the Olive Garden in Grand Forks who looked just like my own Daddy now deceased. He was there!) and his lovely wife, Holly, Karen, Louis, Kevin, Bob and Sue and so many others that regretfully my almost 58 year old brain can’t remember.
Sorry! I love you all for what you shared at my window. We arrived back to the Fireside Inn where I took the hottest bath ever! I wallowed in it for a bit, even moaning at times out of soreness – I got out, said my prayers of thanks and I don’t remember anything until I woke up Sunday ready to meet you all again. God protected us from not getting to tinkle until the nighttime by summoning the rain to allow us an early exit. Ahh! Relief! We closed the Monkey Ball windows just as the wind and rain hit.
We stopped in Lakota for a quick DQ and hit more storms along the way. We held hands and prayed all of the car owners safety and shelter in the storms. Just like I pray over your Monkey Balls before you ever show up at my window. Bless you Devils Lake, North Dakota! You are my salt of the earth people and that feels like love to me! And for those of you who actually read this column – gosh. Just thank you!
The Blonde on the Prairie is a lover of ND. She is an author and motivational speaker, owner of “Monkey Balls” food truck and Joyologist to the elderly, the disabled and, now, also to children wherever she is needed during the school year.
