VanGogh is VanGone

Back in Canada we met Katie and Pete and their vanagon, VanGogh.  Katie is superb artist and Pete can make anything run, run well and run fast.  Take a gander as to the genesis of the name.

Taco and VanGogh were good buds.  They had many a fun time together finding the nicest of camping locations on the cheap in Squamish.

Meals were had, stories were shared, mosquitoes were avoided while cards were played and beers were appreciated.

In the last year Katie and Pete had a daughter.  Although I’m not yet so lucky and thus slightly ignorant on the subject lil’un apparently put a bit of a damper on long excursions. Money needing to be where it needs to be and knowing that any vanagon they ever get their hands on again Pete can make work they made the choice to sell the bus.

Oh the heartbreak Ryan and I felt as though we had lost a a chunk of memory or favorite place. This could not have been an easy decision on their part. Multiply our internal spasms by years of relationship building they invested in that bus and that’s a mere inkling of the vastness of heartbreak that needs to be over come to make a decision like that.

Yet, if all is right in the world, VanGogh is in a good new hands.  And playing his role in the universe of exploration and enjoyment.  You can’t cage such a beast.  I guess in some ways, liberating the VanGogh was like re-releasing him into the wild.  Run!  Run VanGogh!  Maybe you’ll enable the forging of new friendships in new wilds.  We will miss you but take heart hoping you are well out there.

A little hike with a long(ish) story

In early September Ryan and I set out for an ambitious hike.  Hike around the lake upon which we live, some 112,000ft of lake shore.  To give a better sense of distance, 1 mile has 5, 280 feet in it so the hike was approximately 21 miles.  I thought to myself, “Sure, I can do that.  Why not?”  Ryan had already completed the hike once earlier this year which greatly added to my optimism in completion. Well, according to some I did and according to others I didn’t.  What the hike for me came down to was a bad shoe choice.

We started out early enough, 11am.  We had water and snacks and a lively spirit.  The day was pretty.  Not too hot, sunny, with spotty clouds and a slight breeze.  Five miles in though, I was working on my first blister and a couple miles later I had at least 2 more that I knew of. I didn’t think to pop them and in small, almost imperceptible increments I altered my gait.  This altered how I used my joints and by the time we hit Williams Bay, a scant mile or so from our starting/finishing line, I could go no further.

My hips were killing me.  My body had failed me.   Apparently, although I’m not actually a sloth, I haven’t been as active as I used to be and the miles I run around the hospital in short sprints to get from the meds or supplies back to the bedside, or runs to scans and x-rays wasn’t keeping my endurance up for me.   The altering of my gate had me walking so stiffly that an older woman offered the suggestion that I get a walker. (Very helpful suggestion indeed…my last shred of dignity was beat up and tossed to the gutter.)  My legs weren’t tired, my muscles weren’t sore, my joints had had enough…starting with one hip and then going to the other.

I’m blaming it on the shoes–hot little moisture trappers that they were.

It was quite an emotional experience for me:  Disappointment in myself.  Concern that I’m already falling apart.  Frustration that such a seemingly easy task ended up being a wall. Once I pulled myself together though I came to accept that I just need to not take myself for granted and I need to remember to invest a little more in myself.  That lake will be conquered one day–or something very similar to it.  I just need to build up to it.  Isn’t that what we do?  Learn from our experiences, make sense out of them and apply new lessons?

We’re going to summer camp!!!

Too bad it’s the start of Fall.  LOL.

And no, the subject line is not a joke in case you were wondering.  We literally have moved to a summer camp…in Wisconsin…in the Fall…expecting to be here until after the lake freezes over.  You may have thought that living out of our truck for a year was a crazy idea, yet we ever try to top that.

In truth this is a good move.  Ryan’s program for his GA was sold to a camp right next door to the college.  Along with that camp the opportunity for housing that is not only even more affordable that living on campus but comes with two rooms and also has a kitchen.  Ah cooking(!), I never knew how much I would miss you.

You may or may not know about how living on campus was a cooking nightmare.  It was easier to fineagle a home cooked meal when the tailgate of the Taco was our confines than the “dorm” room.  I may be crafy but dude there really is only so much I could do with no counter space…literally NO counterspace and a microwave.  I think our unofficial mess-tent was a restaurant called Lucke’s which has the bonus of being a non-smoking establishment and having super cheap, fresh and tasty tacos.

The camp we now reside on has quite the awesome mission.  Bascially they provide a proper camp experience for inner city kids.  The kids who get to come out here mainly hail from Chicago but I imagine that they come from other locales as well.  Often this is the first experience they have of large green spaces, playing in uncholrinated water and much to their chagrin–bugs, tree frogs and other nature noises.  The camp has a long history here being one of the first places really developed along the lake shore (other than farming) after the great Chicago fire 120 years ago.

Interestingly a lot of the counselors who work the summer program are international.  Only 4 or so of the staff are still hanging around and their nationalities are British and Hungarian.  Others represented include Australians, Italians and Frenchmen.  Quite a few of the counselors come back year after year and many of them are aged between mid 20s to early 30s so we still fit in.  As an influence on the kids I wonder if the international component opens their world view or if the changing dynamics of the US population have already altered that exposure?

So, we are happyily ensconsed in a little-bit-drafty and shared house.  Proving that one is never too old to go to camp.

My apologies

I’ve had several posts running around and around in my head.  Making me slightly dizzy as a matter of fact.  So why aren’t I unloading upon you all these dizzying snippets into our crazy life?  I have no idea where the time goes.  Wasn’t yesterday the first day of summer?  Shouldn’t it have been?

Still, as ole J. Lennon says, “Life is what happens when you are busy making other plans.”  While I was PLANNING on writing fabulously funny stories on a Don Quiote scale we were busy adventuring.

My apologies, you guys deserve more attention.  Do you accept?  I hope so.  It has been reinforced lately, if it weren’t for all those wonderful people around our lives injecting good doses of creativity and inspiration I’d be a rather boring person.  Some people are intrinsically inspired, they have a little box in the middle-of-somewhere-body-cavity that just jolts them.  ZAP!  I, on the other hand, should have realized that if the best place for me to study is a coffee shop where the buzz of neurons firing off other’s brains helps to keep me focused, springing into life adventures only follow similarly.

Adverting becoming a wound down clockwork, the key has been cranked.  Success!

Expect stories.  Multiple stories.  Story telling is a little more fun than studying, for today at least.

To finish off this post here’s a “mandatory visitor-on-the-pier-shot” of the ever photogenic Steve and Jill.

Much more traffic and we’ll need a stoplight in this town

Traffic to our little nomadic site has increase exponentially since our friends Steve and Jill had their moment in the spotlight on cnn.com. S&J, of “Off the grid and on the map”, are currently living out of a sa-weet refitted van and living the dream around the US, Mexico and Canada. Jealousy!
Check out their blog, seriously fun, jealousy inspiring and oh such great shenanigans.
So if you are here because of their site, welcome! RA and I lived that dream a while ago and are now onto different adventures. It’s tempting to go back though…very tempting. AND, with an impending S&J visit this Monday, who knows what idea juices will start flowing.

See S&J’s interview here.

PS S&J, I know you are going to leave the great home on wheels stateside as you go to NZ, Taco needs a friend. Just a thought.

Another August Wedding

You may recall that I made a veil.  The bride apparently liked it and no changes were made to it (darn it!).  I did learn though that I could have gone wider if I’m ever to make another one again.

The wedding was held in early August.  It, typical for August, was hot.  The setting was beautiful and the breeze kept the sweat away (and skeeters).

The first sighting of Mr/Ms Crank

The whole shabang sparkled home-grown Amy craftiness.  Amy is the vun-der-girl who showed me how to knit and continues to inspire me with her ideas.  The ceremony itself was her own creation composed of reflection, a little philosophy and a lot of love.  Just as a good wedding ceremony should be.

The informal theme for the wedding was “Love Birds” and in that vein nearly 80 little suckers were hand sewn/stuffed/decorated about the reception hall.

A love bird watching over all the revelry.

Although Amy, Andy and Annie’s husband can take credit for the large majority of the love birds being sewn, stuffed and generally put together when crunch time knocked on the door all those involved in the wedding party lent a hand.  They made for a great souvenir and one currently hangs from my “the original cop radar” aka “the rear-view mirror” to remind me of good things when I get a little agro while driving.  Whether the goodness of WI drivers can take credit or the little bird for the decrease in my inner road angst I can’t really say but when I’m driving long distances solo I’m not so solo any more.

My other little contribution to the wedding was to put the cake together.  Stressful?  Just a little.  I mean, what if I effed it up?  You can’t rain on your best buds wedding.  I’m convinced that if the cake turned out to taste like crap or fall apart it would not only have haunted me for the rest of my cognitive life I think there are a few other protectors of all things Amy who would have found a way to make me disappear.  Fortunately the flavor combo Amy came up with–Lemon Poppy Seed cake and Strawberry Preserve matched with classic Buttercream frosting– was a dreamy dream come true.  The frosting maybe could have been smoother-silkier but the final construction with the fresh flowers really pulled it off.  Or, as I like to say, mother nature to the rescue.

Underneath all that sugary goodness lies the work of a couple nights chilling with Annie’s momma, some time spent with Papa Montgomery’s table saw + dowel rods, and very very very careful transportation.

The bride and groom took home some of the cake.  I don’t know if they froze any for the “tradition” of eating it in a year but hopefully it will hold up as good as our cake did.  Martine, if you are reading this, it still tasted pretty awesome and Ryan and I, although expecting something potentially with 6 legs and an attitude, were reminded of the sweetness of life and how lucky we are to have met.

A and A’s wedding really celebrated a lot of aspects of life that I appreciate.  Community, local resource appreciation (using local wine, food, flowers from a flower coop) and most of all the greatest gift to give — time.  Lots of time was given by friends and family of the bride and groom and in the end the joyous energy of Amy and Andy, their playful embrace of life, their thoughtfulness and their selflessness was evident in abundance.  An inescapable gift to carry home.

(This post was brought to you in part by the great lament of lack of craftiness in my world lately.  I think there is a sweater I’m supposed to be working on, a baby blanket or two and a quilt. Hmm.)

Until later, cheers to you and yours!

PS And in case it sounds callous, by “another” August wedding I’m just adding theirs to the wondrous month that holds my parent’s anniversary, my own and although short by a few days…nearly Annie’s too.

Team Taco 1.0

Yesterday we celebrated paper. I told Ryan that the ream of white super-duper-printer-paper for the start of school was just me celebrating early.  I got some napkins to go along with the popcorn at the movie theaters.  It was very sweet and touching.

So one year ago we took a leap.  I’ve been told by reliable sources that the first 50 years are the hardest.  One down, 49 to go.

Thanks to everyone who has shared and celebrated this journey with us.  You know who you are.

Pick an animal metaphor

Beached like a whale.

Or

Flipped like a turtle.

Either way, after our 20 mile bike ride today (and I was doing SO good) at the end of it all, right in front of our front door, I-can-nearly-taste-the-’rehydration’-beer and in the blink of an eye… I fell.

Ryan says this means I’m actually trying now.  That man has some funny ideas.

Mom, if you are reading this, yes I fell to the same side and nearly on the same wrist as *cough*-many years ago when I was but a little girl to give you a visual.

For the rest of you readers who weren’t around for the incident that caused me to have a cast for 6 weeks here’s a better description.  Ryan and I have clipless pedals for our bikes.   Mine are pretty darn easy to clip in and out of although I don’t have a smooth transition yet.

The idea of the clipless is, I think, that you can pull and push through each pedal rotation maximizing your efficiency…no time wasted, more muscle-groups incorporated, etc.  Have I yet mentioned that your feet are anchored pretty good to those pedals?  To get out, you turn your ankle outward and POP, you are free.  Works every time but it does require the use of one or two brain cell in the pre-POP department.  As in, it is generally a good idea to POP out on the side that you are going to lean your weight towards.

At the end of one of my first longer rides, with the excitement of the wind in my face behind me I took one nano second to look towards the lake– THWAP.  I’m on my back.  My fall side foot has finally POP’d out and the sky is quite lovely from this view.

Fortunately I didn’t fall on my derailleurs, my tires are still true, and it looks all go for the next adventure!

Whiplash and then they were gone

That’s how brief the visit with the in-laws felt but it was oh-so-nice to get to visit.

Here’s a pic of the in-laws.

They came in on a Friday night after and epic-ly long drive from KY which left them saying, “Next time we are pricing out flights!”  When ever being given a drive time to this area a +/- 2 hours variance has to be included for construction, weather and accidents.  Doh.

Still that night we went out for the traditional Friday night fish fry, much tasty and a little non-traditional with the replacement of potato cakes by sweet potato fries.  Late night drinks and conversation on the front porch listening to the water and enjoying the view.

Next day we had 2 tours.  One of Ryan’s high ropes course and office and the other we went over to Lake Geneva and had a boat tour of the lake where a little history lesson of the origin of populating this area was given.  In the middle we stopped at the only house on the lake that has been fully restored and is now a museum for the State of WI.  Built in 1888 the Black Point Estate was lived in and cared for by the same family for 120 years before given to the state to be turned into a museum.  I highly recommend the tour of the house which was never remodeled from the inside so you can see the original paint AND the original FURNITURE!  Can I just interject, people were short 120 years ago…  the furniture though was gorgeous and I think the tour guide said of the “Victorian-inspired design”.  Interior pictures were not permitted else I’d be dazzling your eyes with the pic of a doll house bigger than some back yard dog houses and bed linens hand crochet, patched and embroidered.

Because of the nature of the neighborhood, to keep the peace amongst the neighbors the only entrance to Black Point is through a boat tour which required hundreds of stairs to be climbed.

Well built, I would recommend that they had a little bench or two along the way.  I know there were probably about 10 people on our tour, not including us, who would have appreciated that little respite.

The estate was worth it:

And before Ryan or Linda get fluxed at me for posting a picture of them not in their usual high-dollar modelling contract gloriousness, John got a grreeeaat one of me in a pose that is probably all too eye-sight familiar for everyone:

I am ready for my close up now.  those chairs were original to the house and construction.  That’s right, 120+ years old.  Wonder the stories they would tell?

On Sunday after a short good-bye they went back south.  To be continued….

Oh, and we were this close to getting John roped up and climbing.

Er, not really close at all.

Come back north dear relatives!  Bring the grand-babies.  Maybe when we have good snow and then those kiddos could really play in the fluffy white fun!

One foot in front of the other

I use this phrase fairly often.  I use it to mean slightly different things and sometimes in different context meaning is on opposite poles.

It’s a reminder that every process has to start somewhere.  That all journeys are made up of smaller component.  I use it to remind myself to get going(!).  And sometimes it is meant in that I’m “only okay” and it’s alright to be “only okay” because I have the ability still to put one foot in front of the other.  And it can mean other things too…

In that endless odyssey of the internet upon another blog I saw this video.  Not meant to be a downer.  Not meant to say, “you must do something”, just a little daily reflection attached to a nicely played tune.  Pretty good for a rainy day.