S'more Heaven

Against all weather odds, Todd and I went camping this past weekend. The forecasts were pretty dire, including rain, rain, and more rain, then oh! it's Sunday and you're ready to come home, so, dry.

But we totally got lucky, because the only rain was on Saturday morning at about 5:00 a.m., when we were snug as two bugs in our tent. It's amazing to me, when I consider the me that I was before I started dating Todd, that I actually enjoy camping, but with Todd, I really do. It's such a quiet activity. We don't take radios or anything that makes noise, and we putter around our little campsite, and cook, and sit by the fire until I fall asleep in my chair, then we snuggle into sleeping bags. What's not to like?

This trip was a bit different because a couple of our good friends met us for half of the trip, bringing their almost-four-year old with them. He's a hilarious kid, who says "Yikes!" alot, and my new favorite expression: "You can say that again don't say that again." Hilarious. The only thing is, if he tells you I fed him pizza with pickles and macaroni on it, it's a total lie. It was peppers and pepperoni, I swear.

We're back to civilization today and already scheming about our next trip. Civilization sucks.

You Think I'm Just Lounging About, But It's SO Not True

I'm so very tired, you're only getting a skeleton-y post today with a smidge of what I've been up to . . .

1. Canoeing on Saturday. Not the best exercise in the world, but such a gorgeous day. Canoeing, and even more so kayaking, are two things that Todd introduced me to that I have really loved.

2. Easter Sunday. Big church crowd. Lots of brass fanfare-ing. Lots of bad food-eating at Brunch. Tried a walk in the park later, but it didn't make up for all those bazillion points.

3. Skipped Weight Watchers meeting for first time since January 1. (See above re: Easter brunch.) Back on the wagon now.

4. Saw foot doctor on Monday. Bad, very bad. More shots, maybe surgery.

5. Today, yoga. Holy Namast-oly, was that hard. I fully expect to be dead by tomorrow morning.

6. Also today -- I broke a nail while swimming. Don't ask.

Ah, Memories

So, Valentine's Day is coming up, and I'm desperately trying to think of something besides chocolate, chocolate, CHOCOLATE. It would help if Tastespotting would do some pictures of a nice green salad, or some steamed broccoli, just every once in awhile.

Valentine's Day is weird. No one really LIKES it. Men feel forced to perform (I'm talking about flowers and chocolate here, so get your mind out of the gutter) and women feel pressured to have a man who does the "right" thing.

Me? I've got a husband who has pulled out some fantastic V-days. One year I got a piano. Seriously. And the next year I got an engagement ring. No kidding. Poor guy, I think I gave him a Literary Edition Trivial Pursuit game, or something lame like that.

But the Valentine's Day to beat all time had to be last year. I briefly posted about our trip to Key Largo, which happened to fall on V-day, but I don't think I really told the story of that actual day.

We got up early, kayaked eight miles off the coast of the Keys to a tiny little deserted island with only the teeniest strip of beach, just big enough for a tent. The weather was gorgeous; we splashed around in the Sound to cool off, and tramped through the mangroves on the island. We cooked our campfire dinner and carried it to the end of the little pier to eat it. We sat on the pier and leaned against each other to watch the sunset.

Then the sun went down. Then I said, "What was that noise?" Then Todd said, "It's a rat, over there." Then I said, "They're everywhere!" Because they totally were. They were everywhere. Tiny little nocturnal rats came swarming out of the mangroves we had walked through to our beach. Ballsy little suckers, they would walk right past the fire and sit down next to you, and I SHIT YOU NOT, ask if you were really going to eat that s'more, or if they could have just a taste.

I admit, I cried. At my insistance, we zipped ourselves up in the tent and huddled there all night. When we got back home, we discovered that the Key Largo Wood Rat had been deliberately placed on that island because it was endangered. They were trying to SAVE THE DAMN RAT. And Todd thought that was the coolest thing ever.

And somehow, that sums up why I think Todd is the coolest thing ever.

Hope you have a lovely Valentine's Day, completely rat-free!

Where is the National Park Service When You Need Them?

Okay, so I took ONE day off. I don't think ONE day in thirty is too bad, huh? Nevertheless, I am back today!

Today's post is about budgets. And parks. And mayors who should step back and give somebody else a shot.

If you follow Louisville news, you will already have heard about the fajillion and one dollar budget shortfall that has some people getting forced "furloughs" from their jobs, and others biting their nails lest they be permanently "furloughed." So yesterday, the Mayor-who-has-worn-out-his-welcome announced his latest plans for making up that shortfall. None of it is pleasant, of course, but one really sticks in my craw.

(No, I'm not really sure what a craw is. I hope it's nothing dirty, because this is really stuck in mine.)

The one that really gets me is the abrupt and unprecedented closing of Otter Creek Park. The Mayor-who-has-really-crap-ideas-about-budgets announces that it is losing $500,000 per year, and in the same breath, informs us that the park has 500,000 visitors each year.

I'm no math expert, for sure, but even I can see at least one way to stop the park from losing money . . . CHARGE A DAMN DOLLAR ADMISSION FOR EVERYONE TO VISIT, STUPID-MAYOR!

A few other ideas: 1. Open the lodge that has never been open as long as I remember. 2. Offer seasonal memberships. 3. Host a mountain bike race. 4. Promote group hikes and dog-walking events. 5. Offer special city-wide fishing licenses. 6. Charge for all-inclusive wedding packages.

Etc., etc., and all that. I'm sure there are other people who can think of better ideas. The point is this: No one was given the opportunity to come up with better ideas. No one was questioned about whether the park matters to them.

It's no small irony that the His-craptacular-ness holds himself out as being the bigtime "fitness-crazed" Mayor, the great chosen promoter of the "Healthy Hometown." Yeah, well, this doesn't really fit into those ideals very well, does it?

At a bare minimum, the Mayor-who-hopes-we-are-all-asleep should be forced to provide a plan for the park's future. One can't just ignore a vast swath of land and hope people forget about it. Does he plan to build a wall around it? Lock the gates? Donate it to the state?

Hmm . . . that last one's not a bad idea. How 'bout it, Governor Gloomy-pants, want to come bail out a poor park?

Vacation Good, Bad and Ugly

HELLO!!! (waving hand frantically, in hopes that someone is out there)

I'm back! Did you miss me? Did you notice I was gone?

It seems like it's been forever since I've clicked on "new post" around here, but I guess that's what vacation will do to you. Given the state of the Lewis family computer (half-broke) and both Lewis family cameras (also half-broke), I wasn't able to do my usual trip play-by-play for the blogosphere, but rest assured, we did indeed go on vacation.

Last Sunday we scooted out of town and headed for Asheville, North Carolina. I had never been there before, and I can give it an only slightly qualified thumbs up. The thumbs up is due to lots and lots of fabulous restaurants, really cool shopping (if I were an "alternative smoker" I would have found lots of shops for my "alternative smoking" needs, if you get my drift, wink, wink), and a serious micro-brew beer scene. The slight qualification comes from the fact that I was TOTALLY a crime victim while in this town.

Yep, my wallet was "lifted," as they say. I was a might peeved (read: fucking pissed off), and even more so as the charges started to roll in on my checking account. I am quite the considerate crime victim, as my wallet was full of the following: my checkbook, a check written from Todd to me, my debit card, two credit cards, my driver's license, and my social security card. Not to mention my Qdoba card, which entitles me to a free chips and salsa on my next visit.

We got stuff mostly taken care of, meaning the bank and both credit cards have refunded all the money that was spent. Oddly enough, a detective called me before we got home on Saturday, and said that the wallet itself had been recovered, so it's being mailed back to me and I'm hoping my ID is in there. Even odder -- today, in the mail, I received my checkbook, stamped "found loose in mail." Weird, huh?

So, anyway, we left Asheville for less crime-ridden pastures of Bryson City, where Todd did a lot of fishing, and I did a lot of loafing around the little town.

And for those of you wondering what crazy thing Todd got me to try this time, I have three words for you: white water rafting. Yeah. All I can say is, I did it, and the fact that I cried for the first two miles doesn't discount that fact in the slightest. I did it, and I don't ever have to do it again.

Monday Recap

I don't mean to brag, but I had a great weekend.

After Todd finished a stressful trial on Friday (which he won, by the way), we IMMEDIATELY headed out of town to Carter Caves State Resort Park. People kept asking me where Carter Caves is, to which I could really only reply, " . . . um . . . East, sort of," and East it is.

Friday night we indulged in lots of snacks from Whole Foods, a dinner that I always think is going to be economical, and never is, but is always tasty. Then we went to bed and DIDN'T SET THE ALARM.

Scary, I know.

Amazingly, we didn't sleep ALL day on Saturday, and managed to work in a cave tour (doncha just love caves?), some serious laying by the pool (for me), a mountain bike ride (for Todd), an incredibly fattening dinner, miniature golf (Todd won, but I let him), and a lovely moonlit walk.

Whew!

You might think that Sunday we had used up all our activities, but no! Sunday brought horseback riding, a leisurely drive home, strawberry picking, then strawberry freezing and dehydrating.

I admit, I approached Monday with a bit of trepidation after all that fun, but Monday managed to redeem itself when I settled the icky trial I was going to be starting, and had my first violin lesson in two years, which didn't suck ONE BIT.

All in all, this weekend, it was good to be a Lewis.

Transvestites and Family and Diving, Oh, My!

I really don't want this blog to become just a diary of what I do, day in and day out (because that would be super dull, for one thing), but I had such a good weekend that it deserves a recounting -- at least of the highlights.

On Friday, Todd and I went to see Hedwig and the Angry Inch at Actors Theatre. Oh. My. God. It was funny and loud and obnoxious and sweet and just fantastic all the way around. There was a good mix of people there, some who were obviously there because they were season ticket-holders, and some die-hard Hedwig fans, like me. We even ran into an attorney we know, who looked a bit shell-shocked, but said he thought he could "get used to" the music. I tell you what, it was a good thing we went at the end of the run, because I would have wanted to go back. As it is, I'm going to have to re-rent the movie soon.

Saturday my dad had a family reunion at the farm -- a bit odd, as this was HIS family, as in, people I've never really met before (yes, we have some strange family dynamics, but who doesn't?) -- but I think it made him really happy to have everyone there, so it was nice. And between my niece and I, we are SO close to getting him to buy horses.

And yesterday, we finally -- FINALLY -- were able to go scuba diving for the first time since we were certified well over a year ago. We went to a quarry nearby in Oldham County which is used as a dive training center mostly, with some fun stuff sunk in the water. We saw a few boats, a gargoyle, a stone rooster, and a realty sign -- just ordinary stuff which nonetheless seems surreal when underwater.

We did have some problems. Todd continues to have difficulties with his ears, and my buoyoancy is just OUT OF CONTROL (it's the peril of being very "floaty"). At one point, I popped up to the surface and just COULD NOT get myself back down. I flipped over and tried to kick my way down, but all that happened was I hung there for what seemed like forever, getting out of breath while my feet (in their flippers) kicked around wildly above the surface. (I would love to see what that looked like from shore.) Todd kept grabbing me and trying to pull me back down, but when he would let go, I'd pop back up on top. Kind of like an aquatic version of Weebles Wobbling But Not Falling Down.

Anyway, we were underwater and actually breathed air out of a tank, so in my book, the excursion was an unqualified success. I mean, the last time we tried to dive, my dive equipment only got wet because I dropped it in the water accidentally. Did I ever tell you that story? You know, the one about the sociopath middle-schooler with the fishing pole who swore she was just going to "sit right here" and watch the fish but not -- oh, definitely not -- throw her hook in on us?

No? Well, let's just say that compared to that trip, you can call this one a success.

A Return to the Blogosphere

Gracious! It's been awhile, hasn't it? Would you believe that I've been faithfully blogging every day, only to have my computer eat my posts?

I didn't think so.

Okay, so I took a small break from . . . well, . . . everything. Much needed and greatly enjoyed.

Todd and I spent the weekend before the 4th in Cincinnati, relaxing and having a great time. We stayed at our greatest new discovery, The Gaslight Bed and Breakfast. This was absolutely the best B&B I've stayed in. It's in a cute, funky neighborhood full of Indian restaurants, and the owners are a nice couple with a bunch of dogs who make a killer breakfast. By a stroke of luck, we had an entire floor to ourselves, including our bedroom, bath, kitchen, living room, and this terrific porch:




Perfect for drinking cold beer and reading a good book.

What good book would that be, you ask? Well, my book of choice for a holiday weekend was the latest Charles de Lint, Widdershins. If you've never read any Charles de Lint, then by all means, get thee to a bookstore and get started. He's just beautiful and magical, with characters you'll wish you could be friends with in real life. Seriously.

We also decided to satisfy some curiosity and rent recumbent bikes and head out to the Loveland Bike Trail. Before you read any farther, I must warn you, this is a terrible picture that I am highly ashamed of, but I believe cold hard proof is needed if you are to believe that I rode 28 miles ON A BIKE:




One of my favorite parts of the bike trail is seeing all the lovely spots where my dear husband used to play as a child:




Why, yes! That IS an abandoned mill! Just the place you would want your own children to play, isn't it? I'm sure it looked much safer back then.

After all this fun, we came back home where I proceeded to spend two days lazing in front of the TV, finishing up Widdershins. On the actual 4th, this handsome fellow graced us with his presence for dinner:




He was quite the charming guest, providing dinner music and even letting his parents come along.

I have to say, it's been quite the rude awakening, coming back to regular life. Luckily, vacation is just around the corner!

Life's Milestones, Part Two

I know that I promised a camping-trip recap on Monday, but I didn't quite make it. Better late than never, that's what I always say.

This camping trip, besides being our first of the season, (and actually, we missed what I consider the actual start of the camping season. Summertime camping is not my favorite. Bugs, you know.) was also our first trip with both Sam the Best Dog Ever and Penny the Wonder Puppy, and with Maddie the Kindergarten Graduate.

Milestones, people, milestones.

I have to say, Penny did not make a very good showing for her first trip. There was lots of barking and biting and running in circles and biting and barking some more. It was exhausting, I tell you.

I've said it before, and it's still true -- she's lucky that she's so cute.

I reminded myself (and Todd) several times throughout the weekend that Sam was not exactly The Best Dog Ever on his first few camping trips, either. Who could forget The Great Clifty Falls Skunk Incident?

Maddie was quite the trooper, though. She brought all her birthday present camping gear and was generally ready to partake in all the camping activities, including hiking, fishing, swimming, campfire cooking, and LOSING TEETH.

Losing teeth is not a normal camping activity in your family, you say? Well, you've obviously never been camping with a six-year-old.

The event occurred during the swimming portion of the trip. Things had been going, well, swimmingly, when Maddie met another little girl right about the time that the baby pool cleared out. The two of them decided to make that little pool into their private, 12-inch deep spa. Since the pool was approximately six feet away from my chair and my book, this seemed okay.

That is, until I heard the screams.

I LOST MY TOOTH! I LOST MY TOOTH! ILOSTMYTOOTHILOSTMYTOOTH!

Well. I found this to be a bit alarming. Not nearly as alarming as the . . .

Ahem: I must interrupt here. Maddie, if by some chance you are reading this, you might want to stop right now and pick it up nearer the end.

. . . MAJOR AMOUNTS OF BLOOD GUSHING OUT HER MOUTH. Sheesh. I do not remember my own baby teeth causing such trauma. Turns out, not only had she knocked out the tooth (which was already loose, by the way, so keep your shorts on), but she had, as her new friend helpfully put it, "busted her lip."

So, after our new friend retrieved the now freshly chlorinated tooth from the pool ("I found it!" she cheerfully cried. Quite the resourceful kid, that one.) we headed to the bathroom, where I cleaned her up as the automatic paper towel dispenser spit out piece after piece of paper towel.

Seeing as how I do not have children of my own, and never actually made it past Brownies myself, I bundled her up lickety-split and took her to my own resident Eagle Scout, Todd, who confirmed that she did not need stitches, just a visit from the Tooth Fairy.

(Maddie, you can resume reading now, if you're still around.)

Luckily, that was the most traumatic event of the camping trip. We managed to recover quite nicely, and went on to make the most classic of campfire meals: hobo stew and roasted marshmallows.

She lived, and her mother even says she might want to go again sometime. In case you need proof of her living, I present to you her first ever Camping Trip Portrait, taken post-tooth-incident:




She even went on to catch a fish:




I call that a success.

Working Off All That 3-Day Weekend Beer

Lord knows, I am not the kind of girl who has a bunch of t-shirts from various road races. Truth be known, those people who claim to get up early on a Saturday morning (not to mention going to bed early on a Friday night) to RUN MILES for what they call FUN . . . well, those people kind of scare me.

Yes, I married one, but that's a-whole-nother-story, as they say in Eminence.

I have to admit, though, that I actually like the Mayor's Hike and Bike that we have twice a year here in Louisville. Yesterday's drew more than 2,500 people. At one point, I could see the crowd ahead of us (because looking at the crowd behind you while riding a bike is dangerous) and couldn't resist saying to Todd, "Hey, look at all those people!"

He says that's what all those runs are like. I'm taking his word for it.

Anyway, I am quite pleased that I actually finished the 15-mile ride. Of course, if anyone had given me a "not-finishing" option at around Mile 13, I may have taken it, but they didn't, so I finished. I even made it up the one hill.

Yes, I had to stop in the middle of the hill and call Todd to come back and fix the chain on my bike that had JUST GIVEN UP and tried to escape halfway up, but after it was fixed, I (and my chain) made it up the hill.

What cracks me up about a bike ride with 2,500 people is all that "courtesy yelling" that goes on. I'm riding along, trying to catch a breeze, and all of a sudden 15 people in front of me are screaming, "HOLE!HOLE!HOLE!"

So I'm all, "What? Why are these people yelling at me?"

Then, I'm all, "Oh, hey, there's a hole."

And it wasn't just holes that prompted the yelling. Throughout the ride, I heard lots of "CAR!"

"BRAKING!"

"CLEAR!"

And my favorite:

"COMINGUPONYOURLEFT!ONYOURLEFT!"

Me? I just ride. Yelling stuff takes too much air and just might possibly destroy all my balance, which means I would have to call out,

"CRASHING!CRASHINGRIGHTNOW!OUTOFSHAPEWOMANONTHEGROUND!"