25 Adventures, A Blog Series About Our “Us” – Us#2

“Just bring me who I’m supposed to marry. I can’t do this again.”

That was my tearful prayer 30 years ago as I laid in the darkness one cold December night listening to the Christmas carols from our town’s nativity scene delicately fill my bedroom with the songs I had heard every December since I could remember.

This nativity scene has sat on a bluff overlooking my hometown each Christmas season since 1952.

I was a senior in high school and had just accepted that the relationship I had been in since my freshman year wasn’t the one God had planned for my future. I was heartbroken, confused, angry, tired, frustrated, relieved – you name it – I  was there.

Looking back, I don’t think I really thought God would answer my tearful prayer. I had seen Him work in my life lots of times, but in this particular case, I don’t know that I believed He would. Maybe it was being raised in a funeral home where I learned early-on to built walls and not get too attached/expectant because everything – like what I thought was true love – eventually ended. It wasn’t a lack of faith, it was a way of surviving the inevitable heartache and loss that life dealt this funeral home brat on a regular basis.

Little did I know that within the month, though, God would, in fact, answer my prayer and the story of “Our Us” would begin. His timing and His plan are always perfect.

Little did I also know that years prior- when I was maybe five or six years old- I had stood glaring at That Man I Would Eventually Marry through my kitchen door as he and his brother recklessly rode my new bicycle up and down the chat piles my dad had dumped in our driveway. I still get a bit heated when I think about “Those Boys” having not one care at all for my brand new ride with the fresh banana seat and the glitter tassels hanging off the handlebars. 

“Those Boys” and My Future Sister In Love

I remember it like it was yesterday. “Those Boys“ lived one town over, and their dad did accounting work for my parents. I loathed the days they came with their dad – which seemed like quite often during the summers. They were never allowed to come inside, and I was never allowed to go outside and tell them to get off my bike. Seriously – Still burns a bit. I’m not over it.

I never knew That Man I Married’s name back then. I only knew him and his brother as “Those Boys.” Sometimes I saw “Those Boys” at my grandmother’s restaurant where their grandparents brought them and their sister and cousins nearly each Saturday morning. Insert more glares from this little half-pint, brown-eyed spitfire.

“Love at first sight” it obviously wasn’t, but time does heal all wounds – or at least it makes them a bit more bearable. By the time my senior year rolled around, I had no clue one of “Those Boys” was dating my longest-ever friend. All I knew was her boyfriend went to church with her, wasn’t from our small town, was cute – and he had a twin. The entire thing sounded like it had potential until I told my mom I was going on a “blind” date and she dropped the “You-Know-Him” bicycle bombshell on me. You have “got” to be kidding me…

“Back in the Day” before my friend and I knew the names of “Those Boys” – the ones we would eventually find ourselves dating.

Mine and That Man I Married’s first date still makes us laugh – and cringe just a little bit, too. It wouldn’t be “Our Us” if there weren’t humor mixed with a little, “Lord, have mercy?!” We seriously can’t make this stuff up.

Until next time… (when I share about our first “blind” date)  ~M

**Find the first blog in the 25 Adventures “Our US” Series HERE.

 

25 Adventures, A Blog Series About Our “Us” – Us#1

December 22, 1988 – As of today, our “Us” has been 30 years in the making.

It seems like yesterday, but yet through another lens – the one of high school rings, letter jackets and prom, late night college study sessions, fraternity/little sis parties, graduations, our years-long engagement, the wedding, in-laws, building homes, moving caravans, getting our careers off the ground, bringing our two children into the world, raising them, and finally – learning to adult and love each other like we said we would in our vows – it seems like every hour – second, really- of the three long decades it has been.

Senior Prom with That Man I “Eventually” Married

That Man I Married and I have been doing a lot of thinking about our “Us” recently. It’s hard to believe that we not only met 30 years ago today but in just a few shorts months we will celebrate 25 years of marriage. Twenty. Five. Years. How is that even possible!?

That Man I Married and I spent several months thinking about how we wanted to celebrate this special anniversary milestone. I mean – 25 years… It hasn’t been easy but we made it! We made it when many didn’t even think we would get out of the gate much less make it one lap around the sun. #truestory 

So… What to do?

 

We researched and talked amongst ourselves and with friends. We tossed ideas back and forth like it was championship volleyball game. We settled, started to book, then decided to wait. We began a new search. Settled. Started to book. Stopped.

Something just didn’t feel right. Something just wasn’t “Us.”

Nov. 2016, PC: Kassi Hillhouse Photography

“I just can’t pull the trigger on this,” That Man I Married called to say one day a few weeks ago.

“Good,” I replied. “I’ve been thinking… I don’t want to do just one big trip. What would you say about 25 adventures for our 25 years?”

And so an idea that fits “Us” was born.

“While wedding days are special days, marriage is not about the big day – it’s about the every day.” (Your Best Us Devotional, Practice Your Promise, Ted Lowe) Our 25 years of marriage aren’t defined by the day we stood before family and friends and spoke our vows to one another. It’s defined by every day since that date. So, to us – celebrating our 25 years isn’t about one big romantic getaway. It’s about celebrating all the people, places, highs and lows, lessons, laughter, and moments we have experienced along our journey. It’s about reflection, reconnecting, and the moments and days that built “Us.”

Our “US” isn’t defined by the day we said, “I Do.” It’s defined by the 10,950 “every days” we’ve walked through together over the last 30 years.

We’ve created our “25 Adventures” list, and Lord willing, will begin making our way through it soon. Some adventures will be as small as revisiting the location of our first date. Others will be larger in scale. All will be meaningful to our “Us.”

I’ve decided to blog (and eventually publish into a book) about our adventures for many reasons, but most of all I’ve decided to blog for our children and for the children (our already-perfect “Grands”) they will one day bring into this world and parent themselves.

As a child, I remember sitting at our cozy table in the middle of our tiny kitchen listening to my parents – and sometimes their friends and our family – tell hours upon hours of stories from the past. I remember the laughter and the seriousness, too, and how they each expertly wove life lessons into the stories they so masterfully told. I didn’t know then how invaluable some of the things I listened so intently to would become as I grew, matured, found true love and eventually started a family of my own.  Looking back, I wish I had recorded every one of those conversations. I wish I had written them down. I wish there were a record. I wish I could remember them all.

I don’t want our children to wish their memories were better. I want them to know the stories behind their parents’ “Us.” I want the stories written down. For them.

I also want to blog our adventures and our story because the story of our “Us” might just be what another couple needs. Marriage isn’t easy, and while That Man I Married and I are in no way experts, we’ve had some experiences that might help others – even if it’s just by adding a little humor to this life we all take much too seriously at times.

So, stay tuned friends and family. Adventure awaits!

Until next time… ~M.

 

Our Big Utah Adventure – Bicycles, Dinosaurs, and National Parks

We started our Monday with an almost 11-mile bicycle ride on the Moab Canyon Pathway. The trail is Old Highway 191, which was converted into a paved, off-road trail. It’s an easy ride with unbelievable scenery. **If you’ve been following “Our Big Utah Adventure,” I would just like to insert that this trail is appropriately ranked “easy.” Someone in Utah apparently knows the dictionary. Perhaps he/she could speak with those ranking the trails we drove yesterday. I still contend they were in no way, shape, or form –  “easy.” ;)**

The Moab Canyon Pathway begins on the north end of Moab, continues to the beautiful Colorado Riverway Bicycle/Pedestrian Bridge, and then heads northwest through the red sandstone cliffs of Moab Canyon. We chose to ride to the entrance of Arches National Park before turning around and heading back to camp.

Colorado Riverway Bicycle/Pedestrian Bridge

Colorado Riverway Bicycle/Pedestrian Bridge

Colorado Riverway Bicycle/Pedestrian Bridge

For lunch, we stopped at The Moab Diner. We met a fellow camping couple the night we stayed at the Grand Junction KOA Holiday in Grand Junction, CO and they told us The Diner was a must-visit. I enjoyed my Chicken Fajita Salad and would recommend The Diner as well. *Did the previous statement just make me sound really old? I think it did.* Anyway – the meal wasn’t life-changing by any means, but it was good food, and the service was excellent. Hey, one of the gentlemen-servers winked at me as we were seated, so I guess that earns ’em a star or two also. I mean – I don’t normally get winked at anymore unless someone is saying something sarcastic to me. 

Throughout this trip That Man I Married and Cousins C. and D. and I have taken pictures with our individual phones and then shared them with each other. While we dined at The Moab Diner, we were all sharing pictures, and I airdropped That Man I Married a photo of our biking experience. Several minutes later I asked him if he liked the picture and he informed me he never received it. Ummmmm… Dear Jordyn – Sorry about the unexpected airdrop from a total stranger. I hope you enjoyed the picture. Maybe you could frame and hang it in your living room and tell everyone we’re your long-lost aunt and uncle. Make up a cool story about us. Maybe we could be Secret Service Agents or something badass like that.

After lunch, we went to the Potash Road Dinosaur Tracks and Petroglyphs. That Man I Married and I climbed several feet up the side of the mountain on a sketchy trail but decided to turn back when we saw a sign to indicate the “trail” proceeded straight up the mountain without so much of even a “sketchy” path. Pictures of the things at the top of that trail are sufficient for us!

Sidenote/Backstory: Knowing some of Utah’s adventures can be more than a little dangerous, That Man I Married and I had a serious talk – before even booking our trip- about what we would and would not do during our time in this beautiful state. That might sound ridiculous or even humorous to some extreme adventurists, but to our family – it isn’t.

This August will mark four years since an innocent ATV ride on another family vacation nearly changed the lives of our entire family forever. August will be four years since That Man I Married laid on the ground without a pulse and was then airlifted to a trauma unit in West Virginia with multiple injuries. It will be four years since our boys were dangerously close to not having a father to hunt or to fish with… or to just pick up the phone and call to simply say, “Hello.” Four years ago – I was almost a widow.

But, praise Him, four years ago God showered His favor upon us, and for that, we are more than grateful and there are things we just look at differently now. Life is too precious and too fragile for us to take it for granted.

We haven’t stopped living, but we do think about the “what-ifs” and our loved ones far more than we once did. Simply put, neither of us wishes to go through – or put a loved one through – what we all experienced four years ago, and so we will do everything within our power to avoid the heartache and such again.  So, that, my friends, is the real reason we turned around on that trail today.  ***And both sets of our parents – who we know read this blog- just breathed a collective sigh of relief. lol***

Our next stop was Utah’s famed Arches National Park! It was incredible!

 

In case you’re wondering – this is what I live with. I guess after 30 years with That Man I Married I should just know he’s never going to grow up! When the opportunity presents itself, he is always going to be sneaking in some sort of “grab” picture without my knowing. lol – Arches National Park, Utah

 

Arches National Park, Utah – We look a bit more “proper” here.

 

One of the boulders rolled into our path, but that Man I Married jumped to the rescue and rolled it out of the way so we could proceed. Love his servant’s heart!

We continue to be thankful for God’s protection and for His provision.  We are blessed to be here enjoying His beautiful creation!

Thanks for reading and for sharing in our adventure!

Until next time… ~M.

 

A special thanks once again to Cousins C and D for some of the amazing photos featured in this blog. And, hey – thanks for all the laughs and for all the adventure, too!

 

 

 

 

 

Our Big Utah Adventure – Jeepin’

Preface: Let me preface today’s blog by saying that while on the outside I was calm, cool, and collected **The others will tell you otherwise, but they don’t always tell the truth so don’t listen to them.** on the inside I was oscillating between cursing to make a sailor blush and praying to the dear, sweet Lord Jesus of my youth and present to wrap His loving arms around us. And that if we should fall – or drive off the side of the mountain – (which I was certain was going to be the case) – for Him to send His heavenly host of angels to gently lower us to safety on pillowy-soft angel wings. Amen and Amen.

 

Look at me all smiles in the back seat.

 

 

Our first adventure today was Gemini Bridges. I really don’t remember much of the trip to the bridges. See the above preface. But once we arrived – “Amazing!!!” Per the usual, Cousins C. and D. jumped out of the Jeep and forged their way across the bridges to rocks that neatly perched themselves on top of the larger-than-life cliffs. They then yelled across the canyon for us to join them. I hesitated at first, not knowing exactly how they found themselves to be on top of the rock on which they stood. From my vantage point, it looked like there was not much more than air separating us. I knew That Man I Married wanted to make the trek, so I pulled up my big girl panties, squared my shoulders and told myself to be brave. Lord, have mercy – send those angel wings.

 

This is Cousin C. and Cousin D. It looks like they are just an easy walk from where I am standing. There’s much the picture doesn’t show though. Trust. Me.

 

Cousin C. and Cousin D. looking out over the open canyon.

 

 

To my surprise, there was much more than air between us, and we soon reached Cousins C. and D. without event. Thank you, Jesus. Thank you, Jesus.

The view is something everyone – if physically capable – should see in person at least once in his/her lifetime. If I can make the journey, so can you! Pull up your big girl/boy panties, be brave, and do it!

You can’t much tell from this picture, but behind us is literally a canyon! Straight. Down. *Still smiling!*

Gemini Bridges – This is literally a bridge over the canyon! It looks like the rocks behind us go on continuously. They do not. There’s a wide-open space of air – because… well.. it’s a bridge. 🙂 We crossed this bridge to reach the neatly perched rock we’re sitting on in the above picture. Simply Spectacular! *Still smiling – but definitely holding on to That Man I Married!*

This ridge is on the opposite side of the bridge. It’s what we are looking toward in the picture of us on the bridge. *Smiling*

Our next journey was up a little side trail called, “Four Arch Canyon Trail.” This trail was mighty narrow and mighty rocky. We pulled off and ate lunch on the way back.

Who says there isn’t shade in the middle of the desert?

 

B. – Party of two for The Desert Diner, please.

 

Next, we visited Canyonlands National Park Island in the Sky and then drove Schafer Trail – a trail that makes a 1,500-foot descent on a series of switchbacks in just over a mile.  Friends, I can’t even. I mean. I can’t. See preface again. We literally drove down a mountain – and even though it was marked, “easy,” I beg to differ. Seriously. I beg to differ. *I’m sweating just typing this.* Someone needs to look up the word, “easy,” in the dictionary and refamiliarize him/herself with the definition. Let me just provide some picture evidence of some “easy” descending switchbacks and you can decide if Schafer Trail is appropriately rated. PS: It isn’t. Well, at least in my book it isn’t.

Switchback on Schafer Trail

Switchback on Schafer Trail

 

Schafer Trail winds down this mountain. You can’t see the road, but it’s there. Somewhere – a sailor was blushing profusely this afternoon. (See preface if you’re confused about the previous statement.) Lord. Have. Mercy. What a doozy!

I’m thankful to have had the opportunity to ride this trail while That Man I Married cautiously traversed it, but I will say it’s most probably going to be one of those “once in a lifetime” things for me. I have absolutely no desire to do it again even though it was incredibly beautiful.

We finally reached the bottom of the mountain and met a couple with their grandson. They were headed up the mountain and stopped us to ask if the trail was bad. Everyone (besides me) told them it wasn’t, and that they should proceed. Lord, please forgive their lying asses. They know not what they do.

While everyone in my Jeep was lying to everyone in their Jeep, I noticed the face of their grandson who was sitting in the backseat. Poor thing looked like he was bored out of his mind. Around mile 3000 of the 32 mile journey back to Moab, I understood. It was rough and dusty and not nearly as pretty as the actual mountain scenery- and it went on forever. I’m sure there was a smile on the grandson’s face when they finally reached the top of the mountain though. I’m sure his adrenaline was through the roof, and he was all smiles.

As we neared the paved highway once again, we passed the Moab Salt Plant where potash, a mineral used as a fertilizer, is extracted by flushing large volumes of water through an extensive system of tunnels and then evaporating the water in ponds. The water was so blue!

 

The beginnings of fertilizer… Who knew!? I’m a country girl. I thought fertilizer came from somewhere else. 😉

 

The final stop of our journey was to see more Indian artwork at the Utah Highway 279 Rock Art Site. There was less graffiti at this site because the artwork is on the side of an extremely tall cliff. According to the sign across the road, there was once a roof structure in place, and so the areas with art were easily accessible to the artists. The following link provides further information if you’re interested: http://discovermoab.com/rock-art-sites/ .

 

The cliff was huge, and the artwork was placed very high.

 

 

Utah Highway 279 Rock Art Site

 

 

Utah Highway 279 Rock Art Site

 

Utah Highway 279 Rock Art Site – According to the sign, these holes once held a roof structure.

 

Once again I must acknowledge God and the beauty He has created in this world for us to see and to enjoy. We continue to be thankful for His protection and provision, and the ability to be on this adventure. Without Him, none of this would be possible. We are thankful and we are blessed.

Another adventure awaits tomorrow!

Until next time… ~M.

*Special thanks to Cousins C. and D. for some of the fabulous pictures featured in this blog.

 

 

 

 

 

Our Big Utah Adventure – We Arrived! And, Seriously… Why Didn’t Anyone Tell Me We Would Be Climbing a Mountain Today?

Before pulling out of camp in Colorado this morning, I reached into the closet and pulled out my freshly ironed jean shorts and cute little summer top. I rarely iron, friends. This was a big deal. We are planning to spend the week in Utah hiking, biking, climbing and exploring, so I figured today would be the only day I could wear something besides athletic attire. What was I thinking?

We rolled into Utah around 11:00 AM, ate lunch in our campers and then hit the town like the tourists we are.

Our first stop was to get That Man I Married a bike helmet and a pair of Chacos. If you haven’t tried Chacos, you really must. They’re versatile, comfortable and come in various styles and colors. Just like a kid, That Man I Married got to the truck and immediately started to put on his new kicks. Thank goodness he’s still a kid at heart! He walked out of the store with one of each pair he had tried on. I seriously can’t make this stuff up. These things always seem to happen to us.

 

Almost.

We rented a Jeep for tomorrow’s adventures and then decided to take off exploring. I’m not sure why I didn’t consider this happening, but I didn’t. For reasons that escape me – because I know the crew I’m with – I thought we’d just shop today. Silly me.

 

Our first trek was up, over, and around Lasal Loop Rd. and it was spectacular!

 

Except for this. This wasn’t “spectacular.” Note to self: Watch where you are walking!

 

Full Disclosure: My only knowledge of Utah, except for when I had to write its name on a map and color it in during school, is Sister Wives. I was not prepared for everything I saw and experienced today. I mean – I was fully prepared to see Mormons with multiple wives, but I was not prepared for the natural beauty of this state. Or the sand… I was really not prepared for the sand. I seriously felt like I was wearing the Sahara Desert when we sat down for supper. PS – Utah is a desert!

We drove Lasal Loop Rd until it ended, and there we found a beautiful cave. That’s when I realized I really should have left my freshly ironed clothes in the closet. Of course, this crew was going to climb the mountain and explore the cave. So, there I found myself, climbing mountains in my freshly-ironed, non-athletic clothing. Lord help me.

 

Painting Inside the Cave – It really was worth the climb to see inside!

Another Painting Inside the Cave – This one was in an opening.

 

More Full Disclosure: I’m not much for heights or climbing. *What am I doing here, right?* We visit The Elephant Rocks near where we live frequently, and while I always enjoy the trip, climbing around on the rocks always stresses me. I’m pretty much a “feet firmly on the ground” girl, but I married an adventurous soul. That’s why I’m here.

 

Y’all – We’re standing on the edge of a mountain! If you could only hear my heartbeat – and the screaming inside my head! (Oh, and hey – there are my freshly-ironed clothes!)

 

Moonflower Canyon was our next stop. There we saw ancient Indian artwork carved into the mountains. I never expected to see such a thing anywhere other than in a museum. It was truly humbling to think about the hands that etched what I saw today. Were they old? Were they young? Were they of a mother of two boys like myself? What was the story he/she – or they- were telling? Questions filled my mind as I looked intensely at each drawing in an attempt to possibly find some answers. I was left only to speculate.

Seriously, people. Respect. It was sad to see the graffiti on such amazing pieces of history.

More Stories.

Tomorrow is our Jeep trip. I’ll be sure to wear something more appropriate for hiking and climbing – and Chapstick – I’m packing some Chapstick in my bag as well. Utah is dry, dry, dry. PS – It’s a desert, Y’all!

Until next time… ~M.

 

 

Our Big Utah Adventure – Travel Days 2 and 3

Talk about a beautiful drive! Once we were out of the white-knuckle-grip on the steering wheel, sweat-rolling-down-our-backs traffic of Denver, CO, the scenery was worth all the stress. Pulling a trailer house on wheels is definitely not for the faint of heart – especially in the city where drivers of teeny-tiny vehicles have no idea what stopping a freight train on the downside of a mountain entails. Bless their little pea-pickin’hearts.

We stopped in Georgetown, CO for lunch and decided The Alpine Restaurant and Bar was just what we needed. Ladies and Gentlemen – It was amazing! If you ever have the chance to stop and check it out, don’t hesitate! Everything on the menu is homemade, and the service is wonderful.

The Alpine is located in an old renovated train depot, and there is both indoor and outdoor seating available. We chose outdoor seating so we could enjoy the amazing view of the mountains while we dined. I love the Ozark Mountains we call home, but they just don’t even compare to the grandeur and the beauty of the Colorado mountains.

Cousin C. called ahead for camping availability for the evening. I’m not sure, but I think she and Cousin D. might question my planning abilities after I introduced them to The Campground Lady in Goodland, KS on Day 1. It’s about the adventure, guys! Everyone needs a little adventure! (See “Our Big Utah Adventure – Day 1” blog if you’re confused and/or want to know about this Campground Lady business of which I speak.)

How amazing is it that we got the last two sites at the magnificent Grand Junction KOA Holiday in Grand Junction, CO? Let me just tell you; it was pretty darn amazing – all of it. The office wasn’t nearly as “impressive” as that of The Campground Lady, and there were no stories of “goat heads,” but there was a pool, a spa, and a workout facility. I guess those amenities made up for the differences. Our one-night stay was perfect.

The next morning we asked Siri about nearby parks, and she told us about Canyon View Park. She hasn’t steered us wrong thus far, so we decided we would venture out to find it and get in a little exercise before making the last leg of our trip to our final destination, Moab, UT.

“Wow” doesn’t even come close to describing Canyon View Park! This place is another definite stop if you’re traveling along Interstate 70 through Colorado – especially if you have young children or you like to run, walk, play sand volleyball, basketball, tennis, soccer, or just unwind and have a picnic. I can honestly say I have never been to a more well-maintained and patron-friendly park. Ever. Anywhere.

I don’t want to brag or anything, but while we were at the park, I did a zip line for the first time in my life! This funeral home brat has firmly avoided all zip lining, sling shot, or bungee experiences in the past and has always stated she will avoid them like the plague in the future as well. I’m just as shocked as you are if you know me… But, yes, there was an actual zip line on the playground, and yes – I did get on it. We all did. – The playground had just about every piece of equipment a kid (or a few adults from MO) could ever want!

While we were enjoying ourselves on the playground before our walks/runs, a groundsman asked us where we were from because, “You have accents,” he said with a big smile. This always makes me laugh. I don’t necessarily notice our accents, but I suppose it’s pretty obvious we’re outsiders when we open our mouths. When That Man I Married and I went on our honeymoon to Jamaica 24 years ago, a local asked where we were from, and turning to my husband, he said, “You sound like Andy Griffith.” True story. And, yes – That Man I Married does. I love that about him.

After letting our inner children out, we set forth to get in our runs/walks. The trail around the park was 1.78 miles, and there were clean and well-stocked bathrooms (something that is very important to a runner) everywhere. You really have no idea unless you’re a runner. None.

There was also artwork and beautiful landscaping throughout, as well as the choice of either a sidewalk or gravel trail on which to run/walk. I’m so thankful Siri knew about this place!

 

What a beautiful journey this has been thus far. We are so thankful for the Lord’s provision and His protection, as well as the beautiful world He created for us to enjoy! We should reach Utah today!

Until next time… ~M.

Our Big Utah Adventure – Day 1

The first day of our “Big Utah Adventure” was a success despite a few bumps along the road.

We ran into a bit of rain going across Kansas, and without warning, our passenger side windshield wiper flew off and was never to be seen again. That Man I Married and I looked at each other, and after a moment, both broke the stunned silence with laughter. That was definitely a first! Shortly after, the rain stopped, and we pulled off Interstate 70 for fuel.

Cousin D. went to put the cap on his gas tank after fueling and discovered it too was gone. He couldn’t remember if he took it off before he started, and Cousin C. swore she put it on and heard it “click” several times during our previous stop. Her demonstration was convincing, to say the least. I mean – I think I actually heard it click when she theatrically showed us all how she did it.

We all looked like idiots searching high and low for the missing gas cap, but we finally agreed it was nowhere to be found. Apparently, this isn’t the first time the gas cap has mysteriously disappeared. Buy a spare, Cousin D. Buy a spare!

The station owners told us the nearest auto parts store was an hour away in Hays, KS, so Cousin D. grabbed his duct tape and his redneck roots and went to town creating a make-shift gas cap. We then ventured on to the interstate on a mission to replace both pieces of missing equipment.

We found O’Reilly’s just where Siri and the station owners said it would be, and then *glory be* – we noticed a Starbucks right across the road. Lucky us! Who isn’t always in need of a $10.00 fru-fru coffee from Starbucks? Thank you missing gas cap and windshield wiper!

We intended to stop at a rest area or Wal-Mart parking lot when we were tired of traveling for the day. Each of us brought generators, but Cousins C. and D. were uneasy about them lasting all evening. We’re all pretty partial to our air conditioning, after all. As we pulled out of Hays, I started looking for a campground.

The first campground I called was the KOA in Goodland, KS. The gentleman on the other end of the line said they were full, and when I asked if there were other campgrounds in the area, he told me there was one across town. “Her reviews are terrible, but she always has spots,” he said with a laugh. I nervously laughed in response as I thanked him and ended the call.

I looked up the other campground thinking maybe he was exaggerating. He wasn’t. All the reviews, except for the ones an intelligent person could quickly decipher to be “trumped up” to cover up the negative ones, were scathing. According to the reviews, The Campground Lady was not only rude, but she was also a hoarder. The pictures of the office, if indeed her place, supported the hoarder claims, and a phone call to her pretty much pegged the rude ones as well.

The Campground Lady did have open sites though. Surprise! I didn’t make a reservation on the phone. Instead, we decided to go and look for ourselves. Whose to say the pictures on the Internet are actually her place, and really – maybe she was sick the days they talked about phone etiquette in finishing school. I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. You know, extend grace and all that other “Be a Proverbs 31 Woman” business.

We pulled in and on the outside things didn’t look so bad. They weren’t gorgeous, but they weren’t terrible either. Basically, a little TLC would have gone a long way, but if everything worked- it was certainly “do-able” for a one-night stay.

I forewarned everyone about the pictures of the office and the comments about The Campground Lady being rude before we entered. And, like the 25-year veteran educator that I am, I also dutifully reminded everyone to be nice. Everyone agreed they would be nice, and that half the fun of a trip is the adventure. We opened the door laughing. Let the adventure begin!

I cannot even begin to describe the state of the office, nor can I describe the look of superiority and disgust the 65+-year-old lady gave me when she realized I was the one on the phone who had inquired about sites. “You didn’t make a reservation,” she snapped. “Ummmmm… No???…” I responded.” (Extend grace, M. Be nice – that’s what you told everyone else to do. Do not tell this hateful ol‘ Bessy that you are a grown ass woman and you’ll make a reservation when, if, and where you want to make a reservation. Just. Be. Nice. Proverbs 31, Sister. Proverbs 31.)

For a split second, I nearly walked out. For a split second, I nearly asked The Campground Lady if she had read her own reviews or seen the pictures. But then I remembered the trumped-up positive reviews and thought… Of course, she knows…. Of course, she has…. There is no need to explain to her that you didn’t make a reservation on the phone because we wanted to see the state of her train wreck in person before committing to an unfortunate case of Botulism due to worrying about the generator going out in the Wal-Mart parking lot and us losing our blessed air conditioning.

I put a smile on my face and spoke politely even though everything within me wanted to be just as rude and snide as she was. I asked if she had any spots and she hesitated. Look, lady – there’s a giant map behind your head that shows you have sites-o-plenty. I’m not asking because I don’t know.

She finally answered that she did have sites. Surprise, again! That Man I Married and Cousin C. filled out the required paperwork on the one-inch by one-inch open space on the counter and slid The Campground Lady the cash like a couple innocents making a shady deal with their bookie. (According to the reviews, it’s a cash-only party. We didn’t even try another form of payment, because to be quite honest – The Campground Lady didn’t appear to be easily amused.) The looks on all our faces were priceless as we all turned to leave. Talk about adventure!

I fully expected more rudeness, but The Campground Lady overheard us talking about going for a bike ride, came out from behind her counter and sidled up close to me like we were new best friends. “We have things called goat heads around here,” she said with serious eyes and an even more serious tone.

I consider myself to be a fairly intelligent person although I did fall for the whole “Snipe Hunting” thing once at a summer camp in Arkansas. (I’ll never forgive you for that, Kevin. Although I will now admit it was funny, it really was a mean thing of you to do considering how trusting I was of you back then. lol) As The Campground Lady continued to look at us with her steely eyes, I felt something inside me become all anxious-like, and my mind instantly conjured up a vision of some small, mangy varmint with a goat head and razor-sharp teeth nipping fiercely and bringing blood to our ankles. Oh, hell-to-the-no, I thought. The vision I had in my head would have made even Stephen King himself cower in the corner crying. It’s really not a wonder I fell for the Snipe Hunting thing.

Turns out “goat heads” are sticker bushes, and they will pop standard bike tires. I do recall reading a review about all the “spiky things” in the grass at the campground. So, yeah – my new friend knows and reads about her train wreck online, but like a good neighbor (perhaps because we were all nice to her), she wanted us to know to be careful riding our bikes. Seriously – that was sweet. Maybe she isn’t so bad after all. A little rough around the edges; definitely not Martha Stewart in her house-keeping style… but also not so bad either. I’m glad we gave her and her place the benefit of the doubt. I’m also thankful we chose to be kind because that kindness was returned. It’s true – you get what you give. That’s just how this ol’ world rolls.

Our first day of our “Big Utah Adventure” was quite enjoyable and we look forward to more adventures in the coming days.

Goodland, KS

 

 

Until next time… ~M.

Livin’ The Camper Dream – In Our Driveway

“What the hell!?”

I stood staring at the water pouring out of our downstairs bathroom ceiling at 1:30 AM and the only words my mind could string together as I looked at the youngest college Boyzi Boy with wild eyes and my hands thrown in the air were, “What the hell!?” ***It has been a goal of mine for the past 23 years to claim the coveted, “Mother of the Year” award. I’m close***

And, that (an upstairs toilet malfunction), my friends, is how That Man I Married and I came to be living in a camper in our driveway whilst a massive – completely unplanned and unexpected- restoration/remodel took place inside our home of 14 years. Here’s a list – in no particular order – of things I learned from the experience:

Sometimes words are hard – and even an educated Christian woman can go slightly hood given the right circumstances.

I’m an educated Christian woman, but sometimes words are hard – especially in the middle of the night. Several years ago I completed my master’s degree in reading education, and with brotherly love, the eldest of my siblings *God love him.* asked, “So.. does that mean you know big words now, or what..??” Well – as it turns out- No. Big words are not my thing. Apparently, “What the hell?” is as good as Baby Sister gets in a pinch. That piece of paper’s really working out for me, Brother.

Stress is cement.

Imagine a waterfall pouring out of the ceiling in your downstairs bathroom. Common Sense says, “Run! Turn the water off in the upstairs bathroom!” Stress, however, cements your feet to the floor, short circuits all problem-solving brainwaves and reduces you to a child while your 19-year-old son becomes the adult and sprints into action. Thank goodness for all those private cross train sessions. The boy’s got wheels. We spent not our life’s savings in vain.

Water goes a long way.

A long way.

Sometimes you need to call in the professionals.

Fans and towels can’t always solve the problem. Did you know there are actual, real-life professionals out there who train for early morning calls about freak flooding problems? These professionals storm your house like the guys on Ghostbusters within 20 minutes of being called- armed with little electronic water detector thingies that find all the water (eeehhhrrr-where), ginormous dehumidifiers, wind tunnel fans and 1000 degree (not really) heating pads to suck the water out of hardwood!? Our home sounded like a freight train was splitting it wide open, and maneuvering from one room to another was similar to traversing a child’s playroom after a neighborhood birthday party where Monster was the preferred beverage of choice. Even the cat was skeptical and cautious.

A good woman can lose her shit over BBQ sauce.

I’m not proud of it, but can I get an amen? These things happen.

It’s true. BBQ sauce can cause a woman to come all undone up in the middle of the local BBQ joint. But, let’s talk. If an eating establishment has the letters -“B-B-Q”- in its name, shouldn’t a worn out, camper-livin’ woman on the edge get more than four teeny-tiny packets of BBQ sauce for her slab-o-ribs and smoked-turkey-dinner-in-a -box? Yes. Yes, she should. And, furthermore, is it appropriate – or particularly smart – for the wait staff to make snarky comments about said woman purchasing a bottle of BBQ sauce when she comments about the lack of BBQ sauce in her bag? No. No, it is not. When a woman is living where her whole “house” shakes when she turns over in bed, she has no problem going to jail. None.

When you truly need something, God will provide.

That Man I Married and I waited 20 years for the right time, the right price and for just the right camper. The “right things” fell into place and we pulled the trigger on our “home on wheels” this past spring – not knowing we would need a place to live just four months later. God knew what we needed before we did. Our God’s kinda amazing, isn’t He?

God even cares about toilet paper.

Truth. I purchase in bulk. It’s generally the cheapest way to go, and, friends – I’m all about cheap. Toilet paper is no exception. When “the right things” fell into place and we pulled our “baby on wheels” home, I immediately started maxing out my Amazon card and stocking the nooks and crannies with all the comforts of home. I had enough Scott Rapid-Dissolving Toilet Paper delivered to our doorstep to last us years of campground septic systems.  In fact, I actually kind of laughed as I heaved the box into the garage storage room. “We’ll never use all of this,” I thought to myself. Update: I’m no longer laughing. God knew. God cared. God used Amazon to deliver what would soon become an essential. I love Him… And, yes – I love Amazon Prime, too.

Electricity doesn’t play around.

Nothing will light a woman up quicker than just the right combination of a non- grounded camper, metal steps, and a key/lock. The first time it happened, I thought I had tweaked my wrist. The next time it happened, there was no question as to what was taking place. My hair stood on end and I’m pretty sure I glowed. It’s all better now, but Lort, have mercy. How did we go 14 years without knowing the electrical box in our shop had never been grounded!? Thanks to That Man I Married, it is now!

Bubble wrap comes in bulk too!

I’ll just leave this right here. Seriously – Are words even necessary? The guys literally used this and more when packing most everything we own. It’s not really hoarding if it’s in a closet or a drawer and out of sight, though – right?

Not everyone speaks the same language, but kindness is universal.

I’m fairly sure the demo crew spoke zero English. How do I know? Well…. one day as I rattled off a few quick comments and some questions- they smiled, nodded- and then smiled and nodded bigger when I paused for a moment for them to respond. And then when I finally raised my eyebrows in the universal language that is as if saying, “Well???”, they told me thank you.  We couldn’t necessarily communicate, but we could certainly be nice to one another. Kindness is what makes the world go round. It’s universal – so smile, say thank you and warm another’s day.

There comes a time when you just don’t care.

My apologies to any neighbors who might have witnessed me trekking back and forth from the camper to the garage (where the majority of our wardrobes were housed) sans all but “the essential” articles of clothing.

A Tribe – It matters.

Family, Friends, Coworkers – Our Tribe… We absolutely couldn’t have survived the whole camper-livin’ thing without each and every person we hold precious and dear to our hearts. Our tribe was always there. Meals, texts, calls, muscles, humor, concern, support – everything. Tribes are essential. Thank you to those in ours.

Does it get any better than cinnamon rolls? One particularly difficult Saturday afternoon a friend called to say her mom had come to visit and wanted to bring us something…. My heart (and my tastebuds) smiled. Big.

Humor

How does anyone make it through this life without humor? It baffles me. The “Down By the River” references flowed freely amongst our tribe. We love you all even more for making us laugh and keeping us grounded and sane.

Food poisoning is real.

Food poisoning in a camper where you don’t have the comforts of home takes “real” to a whole new level.

Opposites Attract

I imagine 46+ years ago God and the angels stood looking through the clouds down at Earth and the conversation went something like this:  – “That “almost” two-year old down there,” God said pointing… “That one. The little towhead, running around investigating everything and anything – just to see how it all fits together and works. The one that loves his mother with all his heart and cares for everyone else before himself. The one I made slightly quiet and reserved. He’s going to be an engineer and an amazing husband and father, you know. (Pause) He’s going to need a helpmate… I ‘m going to send him a little spit-fire brunette that’ll always keep him on his toes, but will love him and their children fiercely, unconditionally and without reservation. I’m going to send her down exactly two years to the date of his birth. They’ll be made for each other from the start. Their differences will serve to compliment each other during life’s ups and downs, and their similarities will fully solidify their “Us”. –  (Pause) Yes…. Yes, indeed – that’s what I’m going to do.” And, then… God clapped his hands together in finality and went back to His game of golf. The angels sang.

And, so it was. That Man I Married and I are opposites in many ways, but together we make one pretty good “whole”. I appreciate and love him so much more after shacking up with him in our little fiberglass mansion.

Sometimes it felt a bit like Archie and Edith around the ol’ camper… Ya know- hanging out and eating in our recliners and all. 😂🎶 “These are” the days….

Dust Knoweth No Boundaries. Friends, restorations/remodels bring dust. Lots of dust. No matter how much you dust – there will be dust. I can’t even.

“Seasoned” can detect “Unseasoned”  pert-dern quick and in a hurry. I learned this as I “Mary Poppins-ed” my way into the laundromat one Saturday afternoon. I went straight to four washers in a row, threw open their lids, and gingerly deposited a Tide pod in each. I turned to continue my merry laundry making and startled as I looked up to see an obviously seasoned “Laundromat Veteran”-  one leg crossed over the other, leaning up against the folding table, methodically raising her Coca-Cola to her mouth and staring intently (way intently) at me. I smiled. She stared. “You ain’t from around these parts, are ye?” my mind imagined her saying in a voice worthy of the old western movies my dad watched every Sunday afternoon when I was a kid. I deflected my gaze and went back to the task at hand, still very much aware of the steady gaze burning a hole in the back of my head. Undeterred, though, I practically skipped in front of each washer. ***I’m reading The Happiness Project, after all. “Act the way you want to feel, M. Act the way you want to feel…” *** I gingerly threw in four loads of clothes and topped them all off – (Insert bartender long-pour theatrics.) – with a cap full of Downy Scent Booster. “Yep. City slicker. Thinks she better than us with her whole pod an booster nonsense.  Fabric sof’ner. *Hmmff* Don’t know when she think she gone go an add that. There ain’t no fabric sof’ner cycle round here. Girl think she got it all figr’ed out an the world by th- tail. We’ll see.” And so it continued. The lady staring at me while I continued about my laundry mission with an occasional sideways glance, just to make sure she wasn’t about to pull out her six-shooter and take ten paces back. I wasn’t there to dual. I am blessed to have laundry to wash, therefore I was doing it with delight and with moxie – the way we should all tackle life – even the mundane. (Thank you, Jen Hatmaker and Of Mess and Moxie – Wrangling Delight Out of this Wild and Glorious Life, for that little attitude-boosting, perspective-changer.)

******

This concludes “the list” as of today. We still have a few more days left in our mansion in the driveway, but the end is in sight and we are so thankful to finally – after three months of craziness – be moving back into our home soon. Nothing beats sleeping in your own bed and having everything in its proper place. There’s no place like home, Dorothy. There really just isn’t.

Until next time… ~ M.

Things Happen

Sometimes, no matter how together a girl is – things happen.

No matter how careful I have been, I lost my Yeti last Friday afternoon. You know… the larger-than-life, “I spent my kids’ college tuition on a stupid insulated cup that’s not a bit better than the ones they sell at Wal-Mart for half the price” – Yeti. Yep, that one.

The last place I remembered having my little gem was in the bathroom at school. Knowing this, I did what all educators do in times of crisis: I frantically texted our amazing custodian, Wanda. *** One of the most valuable lessons I learned 29 (Ouch.) some years ago during my first year in college was to treat custodians and secretaries with respect, honor and the occasional pastry, cup of coffee or lunch. These wonderful individuals are the ones who truly run our schools. Take them out of the picture and everything goes to hell in a hand basket. Quickly and efficiently.

To my dismay last Friday evening, however, Wanda did not respond….. ***Where are you, Wanda? You’re always, always, always there when I need you.

I did eventually find my Yeti (in my house *eye roll*) over the weekend, but I still heard nothing from Wanda. ***Seriously, Wanda. This is not like you. Now I’m getting concerned.

I entered school this morning, Monday – mind racing with all the “what-ifs” of what might have happened to Wanda. ***Had she been involved in some terrible accident? Had she suddenly fallen ill and was now in the hospital fighting for her life? Why hadn’t I received an all-school email about my Wanda!? Things are serious here, people! Wanda did not respond! Why is everyone walking around normally and unconcerned?!

The day progressed and I found myself looking up each time someone passed in front of my door. ***Wanda? Is that you?

Then, at 12:50 PM –  It happened. My phone vibrated! I looked down and there it was!!! A message from Wanda!!! ***She’s alive!! Praise the Lord. Hallelujah – Amen!!!

Lisa!? Lisa – from Front Porch? The boutique? The very Lisa that I don’t know from Adam – only from Instagram? ***Lord, have mercy… Lord. Have. Mercy.*** I would imagine Lisa had no idea how to respond to “the tampon box” text she randomly received Friday evening – while I envision she and her “we’ve got it together” friends sat watching the local high school football game. ***I have no basis for this assumption, but this is where my mind went, so I tagged along and the story I imagined made me smile. Go with me.** Oh, the conversations I can hear my text initiating. I can just see my new friend Lisa passing her phone around and everyone discussing who the crazy lady in the 417 could possibly be.

I can’t make this stuff up – well, the missent text at least. Things happen. Mostly to me, I’ve decided – so I’ll just continue to embrace this crazy life that is mine, and find the humor (and new friends) one mistaken text or other mishap at a time. Isn’t life fun when we let it be?

PS: Wanda wasn’t lying in some hospital bed, fighting for her life. She showed up this afternoon and we had a good laugh. I also righted the contact list in my phone. Ya know.. In case I leave anything on the tampon box in the future… or in case I need to place an order for something super-cute with my new friend, Lisa.

Until next time…

~M.

***Happy National Custodial Worker’s Day, Wanda – and to all the other wonderful custodians in the “R-III” as well. We are blessed to have each of you working alongside us every day! You make a difference in our lives and in the lives of our students! From the bottom of my heart – Thank You!!***

 

Lint Free

How was I to know to check the lint vent of my blow dryer? I mean – I check my dryer vent when I change a load of laundry, but the lint vent of my blow dryer? Seriously… I didn’t even know the thing existed until one day – cold air. Do you know how long it takes to dry thick, naturally curly hair with a blow dryer sans a heating element? A. Long. Time. That’s how long.

Ignoring something – like I ignored my blow dryer – can suck the life right out of it. And, for the record – it really doesn’t matter how much you paid for it either. Lack of attention breeds breakdown.  (I would be remiss if I didn’t stop and extend a special “thank you” to That Man I Married for reminding me that I did indeed spend  “a lot of money” on said blow dryer…. WHILST I was trying to dry my thick, naturally curly hair with cold air one morning before work. Bless his heart.) But I digress…  If we don’t give things a bit of attention here and there, one day they will become cold and stop working. Completely.

The same can be said about relationships. If we don’t keep our relationships “lint free”, they can become cold and cease to work. “Lint” in relationships generally comes in the form of small,  insignificant – really of no importance – “things”… (Misunderstandings, really.)…  BUT… when combined, the small things of really no importance can suffocate life completely. That’s why it’s important to clean the filters of our relationships frequently. Don’t let lint build up to the point in which it leaves you with only a cold reminder of warmer days.

Keep a short list. If something is bothering you, have the tough conversations before the small particles of lint add up and smother out your relationship completely. If a relationship is worth having, those involved will be willing to calmly “blow out the lint” and converse through difficulties with a mutual respect for one another.

*Note: I waited too long to clean the vent on my dryer and the result was irreversible damage. Sometimes a separation is necessary, but waiting too long to respectfully talk and “clean the vent” in a relationship can result in the same.

Accept change. Relationships rarely remain the same through the years. People grow. People change. Relationships will also change – and grow, if tended to on a regular basis.

Take responsibility. If something is broken because of you – it is your responsibility, not that of someone else – to fix it. Clean the lint. Apologize. Make things right. Yourself.

Forgive. While we often think of forgiveness as being for another, forgiveness is actually the kindest, most “vent-cleaning” thing we can do for ourselves. Forgive others for the lint they bring to your life even if they don’t ask you to do so.  You’ll be a happier, warmer person because of it. Promise.

Now… to purchase a new dryer – one I’ll check often for lint.

Until next time ~M.