Just in case you were wondering..

Here are some dos and don'ts of  deciding to camp while attending a dance workshop on a blistery cold & windy weekend.

Yeah, go ahead and pack a really yummy healthy lunch. Some no-knead bread, a jar of carrot juice, maybe even some avocados.



And, sure, why not make a cozy fire to sit around.



Yes, of course use your new cast iron skillet skills for supper that night. You know, the ones you learned at this class. Only, try not to get a flat tire.



But do not.

I repeat, Do Not....



only pack skirts to wear, because you want to "look cute". You will freeze your ass off and you'll also get such a bad cold that it will threaten your Food Network getaway with a girlfriend the following weekend.

Just in case you were wondering, that is.

They're alive, ALIVE!

One night we arrived home late to The Shack and, as usual, forgot to leave the porch light on. Forgetting the porch light in town is one thing; you have the neighbor's light, or one from the street.  In the country it's quite another. You have to feel your way to the front door in a blanket of darkness while trying to resist the pull of Orion's Belt. Sometimes my head is thrown so far back staring at the open expanse, it's difficult to raise it again.

This night we pulled into our driveway, and turned off the car. As I stepped out and immediately looked above, a sound wafted towards me from the fields. It was the unmistakeable sound of footsteps (or paw-steps?) slowly crunching down on the tall, dry grass.

My breath caught, and body went still. But I could see nothing, even with the headlights on.



Sound does travel further in the country, so it must be deeper in the field than I originally thought. It, whatever it is. When R got out, I whispered that something is out there. He listened, and also heard it.

Cruuuuuuuuunch, Cruuuuuuunch, as if it were slowly making its way.

He yelled at me to get in the house. We had been hearing coyotes for some time now and as there is a thicket of woods (and turkeys, mind you) behind us, if they're hungry, then we're in trouble.

We ran inside, pulled out R's trusty flashlight, and went through the back door.

I peeped behind R's shoulder to see the pack of wolves, or by this point, T-Rex dinosaurs that have been incubating in a frozen tundra underneath the fields until just a few moments prior. And they were hungry.



Still, we couldn't see anything. But the sound was closer than before, inching its way to our rabbit hutches. If you didn't know, T-Rex dinosaurs love rabbits.

R felt me over his back and pushed me inside. Stay in there!, he said and I listened. There was something in his tone.

After inspecting the hutches a bit more and trying his best to dinosaur-proof the rabbits, he came back in.

I guess we'll just see if they make it through the night, he said. And we looked at each other, both silently praying that we would make it too. T-rexes are also drawn to gray hair, so I knew I was a gonner.

We climbed into bed and held hands, like the couple in Titanic.

The next morning, I opened my eyes to a new day and yelled 'Huzzah'! We made it! R woke up, and we ran outside to check on the rabbits.

This is what we saw:



Now, I know I grew up in the city and am still getting used to the noises (and in reality, the quietness) of the country, but this one did make me feel like a loser. The cows had been rotated into the fields behind us.

Sigh.

Kansan Girls Visit

This photo at the top of White Rock Mountain is proof that we are not still hiking at this very moment.

My friends, S & L, came down for a weekend visit a couple weeks ago, and I still have bug bites as memories. They visited The Shack, we went on a hike, and then played board games until 1 in the morning. A pretty well-rounded time I must say.

When I found this hike, I saw the outlook at the top and knew this was the one. It wasn't too far south, and you could still get some good views.

Little did I know that you literally had to call upon the native american navigational skills you've been studying, because there were moments when the trail disappeared. What, you didn't study them? Neither did I, and a broken record of "Are you sure this is the trail" questioning ensued.



What. I was nervous! Two of my friends took time away from their busy lives to visit and then I lead them into the woods never to be seen from again?

L registered our names at the trailhead while reminding us what to do if we encounter a bear. I don't know where I read that you're supposed to scream, trip your neighbor, then run; but it seemed like sound advice to me. So I dismissed everything L read.



It was kind of warm that day and I was happy to have worn shorts, silently gloating over that fact as S & L changed into pants.

And then it started. Or ended, I guess I should say. The trail, that is.

It ended.

And we had to eyeball our way to what looked like a white rock on a mountain. That meant going through bushes. And bushes. And thorny bushes, and kinda thorny bushes, and not thorny bushes.

My legs got tore up, people. And every so often I would turn around and see...



two smiling faces going through any sort of foliage with ease.

Those smarty-pants.

[let me pause here for awkward laughter as I say, "no pun intended" but you really know that I meant to say the pun and suddenly realize that you're required to make some sort of noise, so just do a muffled golf laugh and avoid eye-contact]

ahem.



It eventually got so bad, that after finding a map of the trail, yet not being able to decipher which way was north, we took to turning S into a sundial to figure it out.

We kinda just went forward and hoped to see a white rock somewhere. We'd even take a white flower, at that point. Anything white, in fact and we're followin' ya.



What we found in the meantime was a nice waterfall....



With remnants of someone's campfire, complete with homemade chairs. There were only two, so S rolled a couple stones together and formed a third.

We decided to take a breather and snack on fruit and a sip of wine, cheersing to our inate ability to identify plants. For instance, the extremely rare reese's pieces plant, along with the more common purple gobstopper flower. I know, we're pretty savvy.



We hiked on and enjoyed streams of sunlight.



Then eventually found a spot to eat our lunch before hiking our way to the main overlook.





On the rock wall, we noticed engravings of various places and the distance away from there.

We followed the arrow and looked up.



Ah, there it is.

Take a deep breath and imagine sitting with your legs dangling on the other side of the wall, and a breeze blowing through your now slightly wet hair. I could've sat looking at that view all day.

But we couldn't. We had to get to our little cabin in the woods before sundown. We don't know what happens after sundown in these parts.



But I do know what happens at the cabin after sundown. Did someone say hot-tubbin' time? More exciting than that was forcing L to wear my vintage 1950s swimsuit which I unfortunately did not get a picture of.

Forget Ralphie's shotgun, the bra on this bathing suit could shoot your eye out. And who knows, maybe it did at one time.. because I'm pretty sure a pistol could have clear, level aim through those puppies.



The night was rounded out by a wine board game, which solidified the fact that I should not get into the wine business. S & L tried their best to help me...

Game card: "What color of wine are you drinking?"

Me: I dunno. Lemme see.... wait... it went down too fast. Ask me again.

But having Anne of Green Gables playing in the background solaced my hurt pride.

The next morning we narrowly escaped getting murdered by Garmin, as the road he took us down turned into a dry river bed. Seriously. But with S's help, I did a 40 point turn and we made it out.

All-in-all a relaxing weekend with the girls. Thank you so much for visiting, I had a wonderful time!

"It's (still not) my birthday" month

This entire month, I've been planning (and not planning) things, using my birthday as the excuse. It's gotten to the point where I don't think it will ever arrive, it's taking so long.

It kind of reminds me of a friend, who will remain nameless, that literally told me of the conception of her child the day after said event occurred. It felt like she was carrying that kid for years. Who knows, maybe she did, because he came out as big as a three year old, I swear.

Speaking of which, is it possible to give birth to an 8-yr old? That's what I would like to do once the C & R family starts growing. I love that age.

But anyway, back to me. (oh Lord, am I now stealing the spotlight back from the twinkle of a twinkle in my eye?) My birthday. I've been using it as an excuse for everything.



Like when I forced some friends on a pontoon boat. It's my birthday.

Or when I reached for that second brownie. It's my birthday.



Or when tagging along while my bro-in-law was buying his bday gift, I bought the same thing for mine. It's been a month and I still haven't worn them. N, on the other hand, wore them out the door and into Starbucks where everyone asked him where he uses them. This is literally an hour after the purchase, so we had the pleasure of watching him lie to the general public on "the best" places to wear them. "Well, I normally use them canoeing, but they're also very comfortable to work out in as well." Oh, it was priceless... and it was also my birthday, you know.

Or when unable to find the remote to watch a movie, asked R to please press play because if he hadn't heard already... it's my birthday.



Or indulging myself with a 50 cent pair of salt/pepper shakers because they are reminiscent of R and me. It's MY BIRTHDAY.

Or sleeping in that extra 15 minutes and forgoing the Shaving of the Legs. Leave me alone, it's my birthday.



Or going to a scotch-tasting with a co-worker and realizing that I really can't fake making a face when drinking it. I tried to cover it up by smiling extra hard when the guy came by, but it only resulted in him thinking I actually liked it and thus giving me a little bit more the next round. The irony here is that as each round increased in liquid amount, so did my liking of it. My head the next day did not. However, it was my birthday, so I let it slide.



And lastly, having a Wuthering Heights experience on the shoreline of Rhode Island.

Thank you for the birthday surprise trip, R.

And still, it is not my birthday yet. Even I'm annoyed.  I hope we do nothing, because, you guessed it... It's my birthday (tomorrow).

Beware of Freckles.

We were supposed to go to this a month ago. But it didn't happen.

It was a Dutch Oven Workshop at a nearby state park. We woke up early on a saturday morning, actually put on work-out clothes and did a workout (as opposed to putting on work-out clothes and then heading to a breakfast joint for bacon and white gravy), boiled up some hot coffee for our thermos, and hit the road.

Literally 2.5 miles into the drive, R asked me to hand over the thermos for a quick drink. I laughingly said, "Maybe you should watch the road. Remember what happened the other night?" and then, feeling guilty, I gave in and gave him the lid for sip. He took his eyes off the two lane country road and..

BALUMP.

The tire popped.

I sat there sitting in the nearest driveway telling myself to schedule a massage asap or there was going to be a warrant out for little miss carolyn.



You see, a few nights prior we had visited some friends for dessert and on the way to their house another incident happened. A "I'm glad no children were riding their bikes along the sidewalk" type of one.

A right-hand turn into their neighborhood caused R's head to slightly face me. In doing so, the freckles on my legs caught his attention. And if any of you know R, you are quick to realize that he cannot do more than two things at once. So why not test this theory while driving a one ton piece of machinery, shall we?

He saw the freckles and proceeded to lean over to point out each of them with this right index finger. He repeated "freckle, freckle, freckle, freckle".



And I looked up at the same instant our car hit the curb, and then hit the grass next to the curb, and then the sidewalk next to the grass next to the curb.

R was still pointing out freckles. It wasn't until I screamed that he jerked the car back onto the road.

Now our already dirty, no-muffler-because-it-still-runs-fine-and-we-don't-like-spending-that-extra-money-on-that-car car makes a weird scraping sound anytime we make a left hand turn. Great.

Thank you melanin.



So our flat tire happened on the way to the first class and they offered to move us to the second one the following month.

And here we are. Only two other couples attended: one from South Africa, the other from Texas. We slipped into the back and I spied the menu on the board.



Ahhhhh yeaaaaah. (Side note: Does anyone else remember the show were two guys would rub their bums in chocolate pudding while saying Ahhhh yeaaaaah? Or am I the only one who gets that visual every time.)

Well, anyway, if pudding had been on the menu, I probably would've had to reenact that skit for the class, so let us all bow our heads in thanksgiving that it was not.



Each couple paired off to do a dish. R was stuck with me even though when asked if we all wanted to stay with our spouses, he responded without glancing "Is she watching me as I answer? Then, fine."

'Preciatecha, R.

(Remember? That was the first Arkansas slang I heard when we moved down here. 'Preciatecha. Another since moving to a smaller town: "So-and-so is a mess." I've discovered this can be used as an insult or affectionately. With the wide range of uses, you can imagine how often it's thrown out there and for some reason it takes all that I have to swallow a low guttural growl each time it's said. I know what you're thinking..... I'm a mess.)



R and I tackled the Charley Bread which was a basic corn bread recipe with a can of creamed corn added.

Hello!

Mama hasn't been fed this good in a looong time! And by long, I mean since about 8 that morning. Each meal seems like eons since the last...and my mouth was beginning to water, especially every time they opened the peach cobbler lid to check on it.



R checked on our bread and it was coming along nicely. We used the stacking method of heating the dutch oven which threw the time to cook it off. So it ended coming out around the same time as dessert.  No one complained.



And then we all sat down for our picnic in the woods. R and I chatted it up with the park ranger, because he graduated from K-State too! What a small world.

It was a good class, I'd take another one. We ending up buying a dutch oven from them and we're so excited to put it to use.

If anyone has any tips or recipes, I'd love to have them!

(Fill in the blank)light

Most everything ending in light just hits the spot. Maybe not blacklight, though. It shows all the fuzz on my shirt and highlights my not-quite-white teeth.

My parents came into town this weekend and we took in a lot of them. Lights, that is.



Candlelight at the Shack.



Then sunlight brought an arts festival and neighborhood garage sales at which we girls found some real gems (more on that later)! We came back to mom & dad's RV and drank some cold  Budlights, along with individually packaged frozen margarita pouches. On the back of them it was boasted "Great for while you're on the go!". Hmmm....



Later that evening, we sat around firelight and played trivia pursuit. I got about 1 out of 300 questions correct, and it was because someone else thought it was their turn and answered on accident.

Then we stared through the moonlight at constellations, helped by the app on my brother's phone.

All in all, a good time. The only light thing that didn't take place was my waistline. Chocolate icing and graham crackers, I love you.

Dinner Al Fresco

Did anyone else walk outside today and immediately start skipping to the car?

After finally admitting to myself that my favorite season is Spring, the feeling of Fall in the air downright filled me with happiness. The heat wave over the past couple months had just sucked every ounce of energy out of me.



But tonight. Yes. Tonight the roommates and I were able to eat our spaghetti dinner outside The Shack with cold drinks and warm sunshine on our faces.

Without sweating.

Glorious, glorious, glorious.

I think I may just turn into a Fall person, after all. That is, until Winter hits.

Watering Hole

On down the road from The Shack we noticed cars parked on the side. As we passed, we craned our necks to see what was down there but only caught a glimpse of this dirt road.

So one day we decided to find out what was going on...



Bathing suits - check.

Towels - check.

Leaving Carolyn in the dust while the roommates get caught up in conversation - check, check, and check.



We turned the corner at the bottom and was immediately greeted with a nice mural.



R practiced his best whud-up stance in case the muralists decided to get unfriendly. You know, because doesn't every gang hang out by creeks in rural Arkansas?



But guess what - No gangs! Only a wonderfully cold watering hole with rope swing included. People had their chairs, their drinkie-poos, and picnics packed. What a nice surprise, especially during this heat wave we've had.

Yes, we really are doing this.

Meet our newest family members. And, well, I guess I shouldn't call them family because after this post you'll think we're the Donner party or something.

We've been trying to just jump into things, not necessarily without thinking, but without over-analyzing. Because, you know, R has analysis paralysis. He will read 1000 books before deciding to take the first baby step in doing things. I'm pretty much the opposite and so we came to a compromise in reading and then doing.

So. We're starting to raise rabbits for meat.



I know. It sounds appalling and cruel to kill the Easter Bunny. But from what we've read, rabbit meat is the leanest meat out there. In fact, have you heard of rabbit starvation? Say you were out in the wilderness and all you could find was rabbit to eat, you could still starve to death. The meat does not have enough fat and calories to make up for all the energy your exerting to stay alive. Isn't that crazy?

And yes, I do go into that whole schpeal every time I tell someone.



So we picked up the cages and two rabbits (a doe and a buck) from a girl my age who has been doing it for the past 3 years.

I loved her! She had a baby on one hip, flicked a huge wolf spider off the cage, and went into detail about [side whisper] the killing part of raising rabbits. I wanted to force her into being my friend if only to be my spider security guard. But alas, she is moving to another state... hence the need to sell her meat producers.

And with a big wave, she sent us off on our mini-mini-farm adventure.



When we got back to The Shack, we put the cages in its proper place and have spent the past couple of weeks just making sure we can keep them alive through this heat wave.

N has already placed a bet that I will have the future babies named and house-broken before they're a week old. I must look at these guys as a food source. I must, I must, I must.

There's also some other things happening to The Shack that I will share. Things that I, for one, am excited about. Learning through experience, that's what we're doing.

Stairway to Hell

Up yours, Led Zeppelin. I know you really didn't climb those stairs, because if you had, you would've found out that there is no euphoric state of bliss at the top. No Willy Wonka wonderland, with gummy bear trees... no. Only a heart that is two seconds away from failure and eyes bulging to the edge of their lids.

I have been to Dante's Inferno and lived, my friends.  And at this moment, I am in heaven...sitting on my couch, watching Predator, and eating popcorn. No stairs involved.



Our friends had mentioned a place on the university's campus where people go to run stairs. "It hurts" was what they said.

Okay. I understand not wanting to hype up a movie to your friends before they see it, or rave about a meal you're about to serve, lest the letdown is so huge that it ruins your friendship.

But please. Please give extra emphasis if you're leading me into a near death experience.

We walked up to this hidden stairway amongst jungle-like leaves, wondering if at the top would be some ancient mayan ruin.



I was the first to lead and made it to, oh, about right where you see me before I wanted to call it quits. Call it quits and just head straight to the first buffet we saw. That's how defeated I was.

But I finally made it past the first barrier that I'm sure was in place for the people who climbed to the top and having no energy to walk back down, just heaved themselves down the steps.

No. I will make it.

No ancient mayan ruins. No gummy bear trees.

Just dormroom windows and a large sign "California." For a second, I really thought I had climbed to California and so decided to just lay on the ground until someone made me a casket.  I was born there, so no need to change the headstone. Just put in my epitaph "She died doing what she loved: cursing and fantasizing about chinese food."



In the end, we only managed to do six reps, but in our defense it was 103 degrees out. Ryan thought he had had a stroke and spent most of the time in walmart staring at puzzles in the game dept and swaying from side to side. My legs shook for a good half hour afterwards.

However, I'm ready to do it again.

Bring it, stairway. I will conquer you.