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just recounting a day . . .
It comes with the territory. Post-vacation, summer bedtimes being lax and rise and shine times being delayed. Time on their hands and high humidity in the air. It all adds up around here to some pesky attitude issues. Some delays in obedience. Some just-about eye rolls. Some slooooooow to finish their chores. Some excessive complaining about doing incredibly normal things – like going to the grocery store and putting away your shoes. Makes a momma think the schedule might be more of her friend than she realized, even with big kids. I’ve given a few speeches already. Reminded a few certain individuals of impending consequences for continued delays…
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Beyond Wildwood: The Ranch (Tuesday)
Rereading my notes from the ranch is like diving into cool mountain water on a humid South Carolina afternoon. I’m enjoying it immensely and I sincerely appreciate your indulgence in allowing me to keep writing about our days out west. The processing is slow and long-winded and it’s likely I enjoy it more than y’all do. In regular life news it was a busy weekend – flag football and friends for dinner, editing a novel and cleaning house, ice cream contests and uplifting gatherings. It’s raining now and we’re all tucked inside in relative comfort and I’m pulling out my journal to see what Tuesday at Lost Valley looked…
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Five Finds Friday (pretty views, fruit salsa and skirts with shorts)
Hello Friday. I’ve seen a handful of you lately but it’s been a while since I documented you in this blog post. It’s back to the routine in a host of other ways – meals to prepare on my own, stories to write, kitchens to clean, work to do – so I guess it’s high time I stick to the schedule here too. funny The jokes we made in the car at Hour Fourteen on the Road on the last day. The new season of Kimmy Schmidt on Netflix. It’s not as funny as the first season – which I’m sort of thankful for. I have…
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Beyond Wildwood: Ranch Ramblings (On Hawkeye)
Deep calls to Deep. Wild calls to Wild. Where have I heard that? Did I read it somewhere? Did someone speak it to me? I’m sure I’m forgetting my source and not giving credit where it is due. Last year I wrote the same thoughts in some other version. When I say these words – Deep calls to Deep – I am thinking of my oldest son. It’s written all over Bergen Hawkeye’s face. His body language. His grin. His easy conversation with the folks at the ranch. This boy feels at ease here. Feels comfort and feels free to be wild. (Not rowdy-wild, free-wild.) And…
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can they all be good days?
Returning to Normal Life can be a challenge. It’s not just Colorado that’s dreamy with its Pike’s Peak and its no humidity and its no biting mosquitos. What is also dreamy is pushed aside deadlines for work and zero meal preparation and no daily chores and a sense of time standing still. Exchanging all of that for high humidity and a one hundred plus year old house and e-mails pouring out of their inbox is a sort of brutal position right off the bat. To add more insult to the injury of rising early after an excruciatingly long road trip, the car dashboard has set itself in…
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Beyond Wildwood: Notes from the Ranch (Arrival)
Traditions matter deeply to me. (Even traditions at their genesis.) Which means, on this day, on the way into the ranch, we would be stopping at The Donut Mill in Woodland Park, Colorado. This time my dad was able to join us for our adventures, making even these sticky sweet treats even sweeter. We all oohed and ahhed over their unnecessarily gigantic cinnamon roll (large enough for an entire family) and we all enjoyed our ice cream or our donuts. (My choice was a maple glazed donut. I just loves me the maple.) I asked again, the same as last year, “Hey guys – doesn’t this donut shop have…
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Beyond Wildwood: The Reunion (the feelings part)
It was probably about two hours after we all said goodbye. Loaded into our separate rides and drove away. Somewhere on Colorado Highway 9. The mountains were being their beautiful selves. Maybe there was a song playing. I was lost in thought, not completely aware of what was happening in my brain and in my heart and in my mind. Until. I was crying. Not like sobbing, just like tears leaking out behind my sunglasses and I was sort of surprised and sort of on track. My heart was full and heavy and satisfied and restless. All the opposing things a heart can be. Especially a heart of one…
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Beyond Wildwood: Notes from the Road
We’re becoming a well-oiled machine – these five companions and myself. At the gas station, for example. Two kids take trash patrol, one kid pumps gas, I pay for the gas, two kids clean the windows. Now, if only we could figure out how to help lower the cost of gas out here. It’s outrageous. I can’t recall our trip mileage at the moment, but I know we topped 2,000 several towns ago. Today was a pricey day. Probably about eight years ago I received a speeding ticket. The second in my life. (My first was around 17 years old.) Today, in a tiny town called Alma just…
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Beyond Wildwood: The Reunion (it begins)
I’ll tell you this – it feels a lot like my childhood felt. Brothers ribbing me endlessly, jokes flying over my head, loud laughter at all the wrong things, most comments resulting in some sort of physical violence, too many opinions, everyone is certain they are right and a general house volume of barely controlled chaos. One entire decade later, my three brothers and my father and I are all in the same house in the same state. It’s rowdy. It’s pretty fun too. It’s kind of out of control. Sometimes we each step away – to the porch, the stream, the fire pit, the…
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Beyond Wildwood: The Ranch (1)
We’ve crossed the Lost Valley Ranch cattle guard twice now on this journey – heading to the ranch and heading away from the ranch. One was infinitely more pleasing than the other. The stories (and there are plenty of ’em) will have to wait for a day or six, ya’ll. Not only am I sleepy, I am also only willing to tentatively put my feet back in the waters of typing and internet and social media because re-enrty is The Worst. I did write pages and pages of journal entries – with pen and paper – and I’ll wade through those and give you guys the highlights…
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Beyond Wildwood: The Way Out — just some things
All the miles have me off kilter. What day is it? What state am I in? Tomorrow we go off the grid, turn the cell phones on airplane mode, drive up into the mountains, put on cowboy hats, pull on cowboy boots, park the car, let someone else make the beds, eat three solid gourmet meals a day. I can’t wait. The last few days we’ve driven through hail storms. slept in less-than-stellar hotels, hiked in the Rocky Mountain National Park, seen so many elk that I thought at first were giant mule deer, visited the YMCA where I once upon a time spent the golden summer…
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Beyond Wildwood: The Way Out — good intentions vs. reality
Oh y’all. I had cute intentions of sitting in a hotel room or at my friend’s house and typing up a little overview of our days so far. Instead, we stopped to see a bevy of friends the first day (stops which were both planned and spontaneous and such a happy mix of it all) that I was too busy driving or hanging out to write anything. And that evening was too perfect to visit with Beth & Beth from the college days that I didn’t want to spend our limited time looking at the screen and typing words when I could be looking at their faces and speaking…
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Beyond Wildwood: The Routes We’ll Take
And so our Road Trip begins. It’s time to load the back of the vehicle with All The Stuff. This year I decided to put ALL of the shoes in one suitcase instead of having them in bags or floating in our car. There are just So Many Feet in our family. And – because we get to experience every single season on this one trip – we need a couple of shoes to match up with those needs. Cowboy boots, of course. Hiking shoes. Keens. (Or Chacos.) Last year it snowed on us as we hiked and some of the kids were wearing only their Keens. My plans…
