Untethered

Well, for the first time in I honestly don't know how long, I find myself with nothing to do. Like, nothing. I have waited and waited and pined for this moment, and now Lucy and I are staring at each other, untethered to any sort of routine or deadline or plan.

What now?

The long-awaited vacation is over. The cousins are gone. The house is clean. The plants are watered. My usual weekly dates with friends don't start up again until after the holiday weekend. I have binge watched Making a Murderer, The Americans, Orphan Black, House of Lies, and The Night Manager.  Last night I started 30 Rock, much to Nat King Cole's relief as she's been pushing me to watch it for years now, and after cackling my way through 6 episodes, I made myself go to bed.

Hey, Mom, if you twist the camera it'll make us look all wild and crazy.

My research is done and my essay is submitted for please God publication. No more documentaries or serious books for me this summer - or at least not on that topic. I need to be preparing the syllabus for Comp II. I need to be starting All The Reading for the Virginia Woolf class. I need to blog about good books that I've read lately. I need to cut down the forest that is our back yard. I need to resume The Great House De-Cluttering of 2016. I need to work out. I need to catch up on all the back issues of The New Yorker. I need to get some Japanese prints framed.

But instead I booked a trip to go see my brother and SIL next month.

I'll tell you about some adventures of late that haven't made it onto the blog yet. My most recent Em hike was out at Dinosaur Ridge (those footprints never ever get old) followed by a killer workout at Red Rocks Amphitheater. And by "killer workout" I mean that she was doing lunges and climbs and hops, breaking in some new hiking boots, and I was walking the bleachers from shade spot to shade spot.

We replenished our calories with a brunch at Lucile's. The Bloody Mary and creole food made my week.

Blackened salmon, cheesy grits, and eggs.

With a side of collard greens because I simply could not resist. OMG, so good.

Ok, that's all I got. 

 

Untethered indeed.

Iconic Colorado

Nothing will make you feel older than hosting two twenty-something girls in your house for a week. The upside is that we've seen some of the most beautiful parts of the state in the last 72 hours. The downside is that I don't want to ride in a car again...ever. Nor do I want to hear any more about The Bachelorette. Or Facebook. Or sales at the mall.

Check out these pics, though. We call the cousins our good luck charms because we saw more wildlife with them than we usually see on our own.

Kill me now, I wanted to take them home with us.

Lots and lots of driving. Can't beat these views, though.

Look at the marmot in the foreground!

Mt. Evans is very windy.

Flowers in downtown Aspen. My little yard pots cannot compare.

Maroon Bells!

They are at a baseball game tonight but I begged off because I have to (have to have to have to) finish this paper that may or may not (please cross your fingers, help me Lord Jesus) be published. The deadline is this week and I find myself thinking a lot, but not writing at all very much. Now I'm playing reruns of The Americans and trying to force myself to work. In between making fun of Loo Loo Bell and running upstairs for DDP refills.

Wish me luck.

TGIF, people!

Coming of Age

G and I don't live close to family. We never have, really, other than a few years in Virginia, down the road from his parents, during an insanely busy professional time for both of us. When we were first married, and living in Hawaii, we would save time and money for one huge mainland trip each year, cramming in as much time with as many people as we could. We stretched ourselves too thin driving all over the state, and while some family members were overjoyed to see us, we had a few who resented what time we needed to spend with others. Over the years, these big trips of ours tapered, and then stopped completely, which I prefer.

Introverts that we are, we much prefer spending days at a time with a few people, rather than drinking from the fire hose that is an annual reunion of relatives, extended relatives, kids, neighbors, etc.

We're at such an interesting time of life right now (<---geez, I sound like an octogenarian) because many of our young relatives - my brother, G's cousins - are now adults with autonomy and a little spending money. Which means that we are able to see each other more often, and under different circumstances. We are able to meet up on our own terms instead of at events determined and, let's say managed, by others, by the adults. As odd as it seems in the world of family dynamics, now we are the adults.

A great example of this is my relationship with my bro.

This was homecoming week at my high school and I was dressed up for a theme day. I might be from Arkansas, but we did NOT actually dress like this. For the record.

 

I'm a whopping thirteen years older than him - the year he started kindergarten I started college. So, we've spent a lot of our lives apart, with much of our time together spent with other people. Remarkably (read: God) we are very, very close. Now that he's on his own, we're able to arrange trips for just the four of us. He and my SIL are settled into their new place and we're hoping to fly out to spend some time with them over the summer. I'm so, so glad times together are becoming a regular thing for us.

Today, a couple of G's cousins get here. They are driving - so they'll have their own wheels, thank God, because Bunny Mama is too old to entertain 20-somethings - and they are staying with us for a week. When G and I got together, these girls were young. I have the same name as one of their cousins, who is my age, and I remember that they would get so unbelievably excited - as only little girls can get - when "B" was coming over (thinking, of course, that it was the other B, not me). When I walked into the room and they realized it was only me, their faces would fall and they would slowly turn around and go play together. 22-year-old me tried not to take it personally. Now we laugh about it. Now one is a teacher and one is in her senior year of college and they saved up to spend part of their summer vacation with us, and to explore CO.

The house is clean. I have bought All The Snacks. I'm enjoying the last few hours of quiet before they descend upon us. I am firmly planted in front of the fan, sipping my coffee and ignoring the paper I need to be writing.

And I am thankful.

Big Life Changes (<-- a book, not us)

But first, a public service announcement.

Keebler is ripping off Girl Scout cookies...effectively and wonderfully.

I haven't tried the Thin Mint rip offs, but boy can I speak for the Samoa ones. DANG. When I stumbled upon these in the store, I had this moment of cognitive dissonance. I knew immediately that these were rip offs, I mean come on. My first thought was that I need to support the Girl Scouts; cookie sales are important for their funding, and I want young girls in our country to develop social skills, leadership skills, entrepreneurial skills, and have a good time while they're learning.

But I also want cookies.

I don't want to spend 11 months of the year pining for the 1 in which Girl Scout cookies, namely Samoas, are available to me.

Capitalism won. It usually does.

The cookies are so good. Your taste buds will thank me even if your waist line won't. (Full disclosure: my inner feminist is very disappointed. I sneak around in my own house, shoving a cookie in while grabbing a glass of water. Passing one to G while I switch out the laundry. The whole thing is shady when considering Grrrrl Power.)

And now, a good read:

The Dirty Life: A Memoir of Farming, Food, and Love by Kristin Kimball

This is another book I took on vacation, and finished it on the plane (the book isn't that quick of a read - the plane ride was long :) Nat King Cole recommended this to me, in her typical dry style. She pushed it across the table to me and said something like, "You'll like this. It has lots of animals and food and dirt in it." One is wise to listen to Nat King Cole. So I read it, and really enjoyed it.

Kimball was a young and hip journalist living in New York City when she was assigned to do a story on a young and hip farmer. Cue the rom-com movie plot: city girl finds country boy unbelievably attractive (in all aspects - not just looks), city girl hates the dirt and heat and work, city girl returns to city. Country boy woos her. City girl leaves big city life to help him on the farm and never looks back. A love story is born, but so is a farm, a community, a local food service, and, later, two daughters.

I am often - ok, usually - hard on memoirs. I don't like how people portray themselves and I generally distrust the genre even though I read it a lot and end up loving most of the books and the authors. I don't get it but whatever. This book, though, taps into my childhood, spent on a farm with my Gama and Papa. They didn't raise food, like Kimball and her husband do in this book, but they raised animals (pigs, horses, cattle) and tended to the land (a whopping 77 acres in rural Arkansas) by loaning it out for herd grazing, by making hay, etc. This book also appeals to my sense of adventure. I think it's cool that we live in a day and age where it is possible (although not necessarily easy) to up and change our entire lives and careers. We are able to pursue our interests and move to different states with relative ease compared to people in less advanced countries, or even people in this one during past decades.

Kimball writes candidly about the challenges, concerns, worries, and rewards of being tied to the land. When your income and the lives of all of your animals depend upon the land, you really pay attention to things like the weather. And farm equipment. Your schedule is not flexible. You can't call in sick. You develop a relationship with your environment that is (arguably) not possible in a city. And perhaps these types of realizations can only occur when someone is able to see the land with new eyes, coming from a city instead of being raised in the country?

As I mentioned with Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, this book is also easy to pick up and put down. It is a reliable personal account of what is involved in eating locally and sustaining one's lifestyle apart from the military industrial machine of capitalism, again in a non-preachy way. And it includes recipes!

Shhhhhhh, I'm eating a Samoa...

Double Recommendation

Ever since I saw Whiskey Tango Foxtrot (you should watch it - great role for Tina Fey) back in the spring, I've been wanting to read the book. I figured it was a page-turner, so I took it on vacation.

Originally published as The Taliban Shuffle by Kim Barker

Barker was a journalist assigned to Afghanistan in 2002. She had never been abroad, hadn't previously owned a passport, and spoke only English. Her account of learning the ropes in such a vastly different culture is both humorous and sobering. For example, she once forgot to take any money with her to Kabul. So, she was all alone - a white, female Infidel - with absolutely no resources until her interpreter and a foreign journalist helped her out. She also recounts how antsy she was to get embedded with our troops on missions, and also to meet with Taliban leaders. Motivated? Yes. Safe? Definitely not.

She wasn't just dealing with Afghan politics (and terrorism) during war time, she was also dealing with the culture shock of working with other international and American journalists in the field, as well as the military. I can't imagine. While she was an experienced journalist and a good writer, she was brand new at just about everything else, and she recounts her life and work in a frank way.

It was refreshing to read a book involving such touchy politics, cultural clashes, gender issues, and, you know, war, in a way that didn't overtly seem to have an agenda. What I mean is that I was expecting her to be preachy but she wasn't. In sticking with her own story and experiences, she was able to present people, their countries, and their beliefs (and actions) in a complex and multi-faceted way, which is realistic. That is how the world works; that is how we live. Things are rarely one-dimensional or accurately evaluated with simplistic black-and-white judgment.

I'm really glad I read the book. It's easy to pick up and put down - it's entertaining and suspenseful but also thought-provoking. And it differs from the movie. So try both!

Elevation Gain

Em and I weren't able to do our weekly hike, but G and I made up for it yesterday. We got our annual pass to Rocky Mountain National Park (RMNP) and did the 2016 Inaugural Hike - 7 miles. We were able to hit the trail early (getting up at 5:30 on a Saturday = easier than getting up at 5:30 on a Monday and going to work...) and were chowing on celebratory Mexican food by 11:30. Done and done. There may or may not have been hours of The Americans and naps yesterday afternoon.

I have finally, finally managed to catch up with my peeps and make regular plans for this summer. Nat King Cole and I will be resuming Lit Society (collective sigh of relief over here), and The Russkie and I have officially scheduled time for copious amounts of food and walks. We had brunch at Snooze this past week and I didn't realize she snapped this photo of me. Because she is, in fact, a spy.

Candid shot. See? Food really and truly makes me happy.

Yes, my phone is as big as my plate.

For the record, I was taking pics of these delicious beauties:

Hash browns topped with pulled pork, eggs, onions, cheese and avocados. My reason for living.

A PINEAPPLE UPSIDE DOWN PANCAKE

Summer has slapped us in the face over here. It gets well into the nineties - NINETIES - during the day. Our house has no air conditioning. So guess what we're gonna do today? Plop down in front of several fans and not move. With this one.

Thug life.

This is my new favorite coffee mug. It makes me happy.

Ok, off to pretend like I don't have class to prepare for or a paper to write. Here's to a long, luxurious day of procrastination and total academic denial.

TGIF, people!

Outtakes

Or, the title that G suggested for this post, "Sh*t We Saw In Japan."

Here's a realistic glimpse into our vacations through the pics that don't make the first or second or third cut for blog posts.

Not all of our selfies work out.

All. The. People.

In order to get this picture:

We had to deftly navigate our way through this crowd:

The Signs

BLUF (Bottom Line Up Front): I speak 1.5 languages if you count English, some French, and the Hawaiian I picked up along the way. So, no judgement here. But. The signs.

Weird Sh*t

There's weird stuff everywhere, but it sure is fun to photograph on vacation.

The time the deer walked into Mario's store. (Zoom in. Look closely.)

Nothin' to see here, folks. Why don't you turn on around and go back the way you came.

The biggest crosswalk I've ever seen. Five directions at an intersection.

There are no words. We loved every minute of the owl cafe. I've spared you 99% of the pics. I look deranged because I'm so happy.

The scariest ET ever.

Stuff like this puts my animal mania in perspective. I cooed at the deer. I sweet talked them and fed them loads of crackers. I didn't cuddle with them.

When you go to the temple, you have the option to get your fortune. It involves this process of shaking a big container full of sticks until one falls out. The number on the stick correlates to a drawer system. You find the drawer with your number on it, open it, and pull out your fortune.

But if you don't like it? You tie it up here and leave it at the temple.