March in Wisconsin…March in Pasadena

Funny that we can live in the same country and have such a variety of accents, cultural customs, traditions, income potential and weather. All these things make for good conversation with strangers too, coincidentally. What else are you going to chat up a stranger about, your secret addiction to buying lipsticks and hoarding them for the zombie apocalypse?

In Wisconsin this winter we have had an extreme amount of below zero temperatures and piles of snow and ice. Our humble little city even made the national news as the coldest temperatures in the country this winter. An honor we could of done without and none of us wanted. Most of us have been trapped indoors for weeks at a time, just trying to survive the temperatures and remember what the sun felt like.

 

My sister (one of my many sister’s) lives in Pasadena, California with her husband in the cutest little bungalow you’ve ever seen. I think it was even scouted one time to be used in a movie.

 

In the weather app on my phone, I have my city, her city, our favorite summer vacation spot and Paris programmed in so I can check the weather in any of those places at any time. I have had weather envy watching her temps compared to mine over the past few months. When we are -21 air temps with a wind chill of -49, she is over 80 degrees warmer at temps in the 60’s. One day she had to close her shades because it was a frigid 45 degrees. Poor thing. I don’t know how she survived it.

Circumstances brought me to Pasadena this week (yesterday!). When I landed at 8 a.m. it was almost 70 degrees, the sun was shining and I saw (brace yourself) wild roses growing along the freeway. And they were in FULL BLOOM! I thought I died and was in heaven.

We spent all day outside. We walked, we shopped, we sat in rocking chairs on her porch. It reached 80 degrees and it was wonderful.

My backyard….

Her backyard…

 

 

We went to dinner that evening at a lovely little pizza place called “The Luggage Room” and sat outside. As I ate my veggie pizza (made from ingredients bought at the local farmer’s market) I watched children playing on the patio, people passing with their dogs, couples talking and laughing over drinks and I noticed no one seemed to be in a hurry. The evening was still warm, there was a tiny breeze blowing and the sun had not yet set. In other words, no one was running from car to store with the wind knocking the breath out of them, dodging snow and ice.

I’m not saying that living in a part of the country where the weather is always perfect and warm wouldn’t get old. (yeah, poor Californian’s with their perfect weather) For me, I would probably miss the change of seasons. The smell of dirt in the spring, the summer sun, the beautiful orange and red and yellow trees in the fall and yes, even the snow in the winter. But having survived the winter we are having this year, I am going to soak up all the vitamin D my body wants, I am going to eat outside and sit on her porch and walk outside in my bare feet because I will be going home to this….

 

However, spring is coming……..right?

“Glamping” in Door County

Webster’s Dictionary did not have a definition for “glamping”. It said the word didn’t exist and tried to correct me to mean dumpling, dumping or gangbang. Whhhhaaaaaatttt?

Shame on you, Webster’s.

Urbandictionary.com defines “glamping” as going camping, but with glamour. “A combination of the two words. It’s like regular camping but with things being nicer than usual, being warmer and more comfortable. Satisfying your craving for the outdoors and your penchant for a good meal and a comfortable bed.” Used in a sentence….

“No stinking sleeping bags on the hard ground and freeze dried food for me. If it’s not a glamping trip, count me out!”

Every year for at least the past 14 years we have gone camping in Baileys Harbor in Door Co, Wisconsin. It reminds me of the shoreline of Maine with the lighthouses, beaches, sailboats and woods where I spent a couple of my teenage years.

We’ve gone to the same campground for all these years. Bailey’s Grove Campground. We got to know the owners over the years and would automatically reserve for the upcoming year. When they sold the campground, we were afraid we wouldn’t like the new owners or they wouldn’t like us or let us reserve automatically year after year. We had no reason to fear, the new owners Alicia and Josh Kropuenske are just as delightful and helpful and friendly as the old owners.

Our early years of camping consisted of cramming 4 kids and 2 adults into a tent built for 4 in which only a child could stand up in. We would eat cold cut sandwiches and hot dogs over the fire on sticks. For real. On sticks we sent the kids to find. Like a treasure hunt for cooking implements. For breakfast we would bring those cute little boxes of cereal and the kids would fight over the 1 box of chocolate cocoa puffs until I wanted to punch them into dust so no one could eat them. We slept in sleeping bags on the ground, battling arms and legs from every family member hitting us like shrapnel throughout the night. We woke the next day feeling like we got beat by baseball bats during the night. Why did we put ourselves through this? Because of the coconut ice cream and salt water taffy from the Yum Yum Tree…

Because of the Annual 4th of July parade…

Where else are you going to see a camel and a rabbit playing the drums in the same place?

Because of Annual Craft and Art Show…

Because of the s’mores….

Because of the swimming…

Because of this….

And this…

And this…

Because of the shopping… (and more on this in the next 2 posts!)

Also because it’s like a childhood right of passage to remember your parents taking you camping; the long car ride to get there, the fighting with your siblings because they are touching you or looking at your weird, trying to “help” your dad put up the tent, the sun burned noses and shoulders and the unexpected rain storm that soaks you, your tent, your pillow and forces you into sleeping in the car. But also for the swimming, toes in the sand, the ice cream stands, the nights around the fire telling funny stories and laughing until your cheeks hurt, watching the fireworks like it’s the first time you’ve seen them and playing with your siblings like they are your best friends.

Yup, camping. Seriously, you and your children are missing out on some really great memories if you don’t take them camping. How are you going to laugh about that time it rained so hard it soaked your tent and your mom thought it would be brilliant to throw it in the laundry mat dryer to dry it out and it melted instead if it never happens? (That really happened to me, by the way. Not one of my finer moments.)

How else are you going to put to bed kids so worn out from playing outside in the fresh air that they go to bed with dirty little feet?

Gone are the days of sleeping on the ground, eating hot dogs off a stick cooked on a campfire and fighting over a little box of cereal. We go glamping, now!

My hunny bunny has almost perfected glamping. The only thing missing is china plates and real silver to eat from, but who wants to clean that up every day? We don’t have a butler named Alfred, you know, and I’m not doing it.

Our queen size air mattress complete with flannel sheets, quilts and down pillows…

Waking the first morning, free from bruises and aches…

Our dishwashing station…

Our cooking station…

The hunny bunny is also a master at the dutch oven. Take for instance our breakfast one morning of hash browns, eggs, bacon, red and green peppers and onions baked into perfection with cheese on top…

Speaking of food, we eat better glamping than we do at home. No more cold cuts here! Our menu consisted of chicken fajitas, chicken with tri-colored pasta with roasted red peppers and pesto and parmesan chicken with wild rice, homemade cinnamon rolls the size of your hand, fresh hot donuts and more deliciousness.

As I ate my second helping of pork roast tonight with Yukon gold potatoes and fresh carrots, I couldn’t help but notice our campsite neighbors having hot dogs on sticks over the fire, after which they crammed themselves and their son into a 2 man tent arguing about who’s touching who. I couldn’t help but giggle a little quietly to myself.

I’m leaving here a little sun burned, a little more broke, all my clothes smelling of campfire and desperately needing a pedi. But also happy, relaxed, well fed and full of new memories to laugh about later until my cheeks hurt.

Like the flat frog prank of 2013.

The Urge to MOO!

I have worked with youth groups through my church for years. In different capacities but always with teenagers and I LOVE it! Teenagers are so awesome! They are energetic, open to learning and funny. I find them to be open with me, helpful and can be agreeable if bribed with candy. When I am at church functions, I actually prefer to hang out with the kids more than the adults. I’m not a weirdo or anything, I just find them to be more genuine than most adults. What you see is what you get.  They generally don’t act phony.

Currently, I am the leader over a group of girls age 12-13. (I just finished an almost 7 year stint teaching an early morning class to high school age kids.) We usually do activities on Wednesday nights but this week we met on Friday night to go a horse farm to learn about care of horses, ride the horses and roast hot dogs over a fire.

We got a little lost getting there. We were on county roads passing farms and fields and rolling hills. To make the best of it, we blasted the radio, sang really loud and “mooed” at all the cows we passed. There were a lot of cows. (We were in the country in Wisconsin after all!)

No worries, we got there.

The girls got to groom the horses, ride the horses, chase the geese and chickens, eat hot dogs, giggle and toast marshmallows. The farm was beautiful and the owner of the farm was so gracious and patient with all the girls.

On the way home we played “truth”. It’s “truth or dare” but without the dares. Nothing off limits and nothing leaving the car. Here’s what I know and learned about these beautiful, sweet and sometimes vulnerable girls…

They just want someone to listen to and hear them. They want to feel pretty and loved. They have fears and care very deeply for their loved ones. What they are feeling at this point in their lives is very real and matters to them. They can be hurt deeply but want to forgive and move on. They dream about their futures with very little limits. They want to be understood. They can eat a lot. They really do think about boys 95% of the time. They make me laugh and they make my heart ache.

“Mooing” at the cows made me forget how tired the week made me, and it made me forget about all the things I had to do at home. It just made me feel silly and happy and totally in the moment.

I’ve really liked cows lately. I find looking at them peaceful. I really want a cow painting by the artist Cindy Austin. I already have the wall space picked out! Check out her website; cindyaustinpaintings.com and look at the cows, “Moonalisa”, “Clairebelle” and my favorite “Ealalie”. The blue sky behind her is heavenly!

Someday, Ealalie, you will be mine!

When is the last time you “mooed” at the cows?