Simple Joys

We are bloggers without a dedicated purpose.  We aren't food bloggers, travel bloggers, DIY bloggers, photography bloggers, etc.  I feel like we are "life" bloggers.  Not lifestyle bloggers-- which I don't really even know what category is.  We are real life bloggers as we treat this more as an electronic journal.  A lot of times real life doesn't present full length "blog worthy" events so we share a jumble of ideas.  This is one of those posts. Real life has all types of moments and here are some snapshots of our simple joys the past few weeks.

At the beginning of June our garbage disposal gave up the ghost.  We called the landlord and then waited patiently trying to keep as much debris out of the sink as possible.  A month past so we called again.  She had forgotten but would have someone over to fix it in the next week or so.  By this time the sink drain is getting slower and slower.  Finally it gets to the point where it stopped draining.  Luckily they came and replaced it the next day.  Arthur has had a new zest towards washing dishes and once again it is a pleasant experience.  It is interesting how little things like a broken garbage disposal can give a different perspective on the blessings in our life.

Another evening this week we found a hornet in the back bedroom.  We didn't have time to deal with it then so we shut the door to come back later.  As we were discussing our plan of attack Arthur being the valiant protector of the home said he would go in after it.  He commented that he had been stung before and getting a paper cut was worse.  I had different feelings about my hornet sting experience so I sent him off to battle.  We realized at this point that even after being "real life adults" for three years there are still some essential household items that we haven't invested in yet.  Like a fly swatter.  He went into the room with a rolled up newspaper to get the hornet buzzing in and out of the window blinds.  After several direct swats it didn't seem to terribly phased so he tried to squish it.  At that point Arthur responded with sudden surprise as he found out that hornet stings are not really preferable to paper cuts.  He continued blindly through the pain to finish the conquest that he started.  I ran off to get a poultice of baking soda to dress my hero's wound with.  The hornet fell behind the bed and after stinging Arthur was unable to fly and was crushed to the death.  It was quite the battle but I slept much easier that night knowing my husband and protector had freed our home from insects.

Another simple joy for myself has been working on some watercolors.  In the evening after a day of work filled with protocols and documentation it is nice to doing something creative.  Watercolors have been my outlet for this recently.  My project lately has been doing a series of woodland creatures- a fox, raccoon, and hedgehog- as decor for the nursery for my brother and sister-in-law who are expecting twins.  I haven't painted animals before but why not give it a shot.  I loved when my fox took shape with its sly smile on the piece of paper.  I am continually amazed that water with simple colored pigment on a blank sheet of paper can have such expression.

In our garden we have a toad who has taken up residence in my pots.  The soil is usually moist and cool and he is able to hunker down below the foliage.  Most mornings I startle him when I water and he jumps out.  We have named him Basil.  Basil the British toad who lives underneath the basil plant.

Since it is summer we are making use of the weekends for traveling and adventures as we can.  One of the greatest joys of our marriage is going exploring together.  We were just discussing recently that while some of our activities while dating seemed a little over the top- a date where we walked 13 miles because we forgot to turn around, a 7 mile run because Arthur wanted to spend time with me, and decathlon date- it really was a good representation of what we do now as a couple.  A few weeks ago we rolled out of bed at 5am to go biking in Council Grove on the Flint Hills Trail before it go to warm.  We had a wonderful 30 mile ride through the heart of the Flint Hills.  We saw wildflowers, cattle cooling off in farm ponds, a coyote, hawks circling, and rolling prairie.  After cleaning up a little we ate at the Hays House which is one of the reason Arthur is always up for a trip to Council Grove.  This past weekend we did a shake down hike for our upcoming backpacking trip.  We haven't actually "backpacked" anywhere before we decided a practice run would be good before we end up on an uninhabited island for 4 days.  We backpacked 20 yards from the car to our site (Kansas has minimal true backpacking opportunities) on a beautiful summer evening.  Showers had rolled through a few hours before and the air was actually cool and crisp.  Arthur set up the tent and I was able to get the backpacking stove working to boil water to rehydrate our backpacking food.  We fell asleep to the quiet sounds of nature-- the occasional bullfrog and cicadas.  The next morning we packed our backpacks and did a loop on the trail.  We adjusted to carrying loaded packs again and Arthur- my defender and protector- battled all the spider webs the crossed the trail early in the morning since we were the first ones out to enjoy the morning. 

 So there are our snapshots of real life joys-- a new garbage disposal, having the company of a toad in my garden, and a husband who will take on hornets and spider webs out of love for his wife.  Omnia Vincit Amor. 

A Different Type of Adventure

My favorite genre of books as always been adventure books-- biographies about mountain climbers, stories of survival in the woods, memoirs of globetrotters.  Currently on my night stand is a book about a gal who walked across Asia from Siberia to Thailand and then onto Australia over the course of 3 years.  I just started another about a guy who was trekking throughout the Himalaya range.   Oh the tales of adventure.  But adventure comes in all shapes and sizes.  

My big adventure this week was getting my hair cut.  I have never liked taking the time to get my hair cut and since moving away from home I haven't found someone "permanent" to cut my hair.    Since graduating from high school 10 years ago I have had my hair cut professionally twice.  Once when a friend and I were informed by a roommate that we needed to step out of our comfort zones and get our hair styled.  The other time was for a trim before my wedding.  My mother, jack of all trades, has been talked into cutting my hair most of the time and does a great job.  Since getting married 3 years ago I really haven’t gotten my hair cut other than Mom doing a trim here or there.  The result has been hair that is longer than I have ever had it before.  Most people at work rave about it but over the past few months it has gotten long enough and enough of a hassle in the heat that something had to change. 

Another piece of this story is that I have always been interested in donating my hair to make wigs for cancer patients.  This has been a type of a bucket list item.  This time my hair was finally long enough and it would have been a shame to let all this long, thick hair go to waste so I should share the hair that I am tried of with someone who desperately needs hair.  Pantene has a program called Beautiful Lengths which takes donated hair and funds to create wigs free of charge for women dealing with cancer. 

For about 2 months I have been talking about scheduling an appointment and had the phone number sitting on my desk but I kept putting it off.  Adventure is defined as a bold, usually risky undertaking; hazardous action of uncertain outcome. This is exactly how I was feeling about haircut.  I finally called and they could get me in the next day so I wouldn’t get cold feet.  I also decided I needed to do some “Pinterest research” to know what I wanted so I didn’t get talked into some crazy style in the heat of the moment with rash decision making. 

The salon was next door to a tattoo parlor and I would guess that the stylists are fairly frequent visitors next door with several tattoos a piece.  The salon was decorated with vintage pinups, bright lime green paint, and leopard print accents.  Very different from the hair salons I had frequented in rural Kansas that were usually in an older church lady’s basement.  The stylist I have an appointment with is working with a client who is having an intricate design shaved on the back of her head.  My stylist is sporting jet black hair with purple, pink, and blue highlights that is shaved fairly short on one side.  It is a style that looks fairly low maintenance which is what I want but I am hoping for something a little less edgy.  While I am waiting my heartbeat returns for normal and I realize that I won’t bolt out the door.  I settle in and start to enjoy the back and forth banter of the salon. 

It’s finally my turn and my stylist welcomes me over to the chair.  We discuss that I would like to donate my hair and I show her the picture of the very subdued bob style that I am hoping for as the end result.  She starts braiding my hair and then chops off the two braids that will be donated—10 inches in length.  Instantly my hair feels lighter and I like it.  Then she comments, “Oh my goodness, you have the perfect neck for this cut.  This will be awesome.” I’m not sure what qualities about my neck are so great but the compliment puts me at ease.  We talk about her kids, my work, and then I ask her what she likes best about being a stylist.  “My favorite thing is when people come in and want to try something crazy—a new color, cool designs, or- like you- getting it all chopped off.”  I had no idea I would fall into the client who wants to try something crazy category.  This is what I was trying to avoid but it’s kind of fun to step out on a limb once in a while. 

I love my new cut.  It isn’t hot and sticky in the summer heat when I work out.  It dries quickly after a swim.  It may take all of 30 seconds do my hair in the morning.  I have gotten rave reviews from co-workers and clients.  The only nay-sayer has been my three year old niece who told me that I have to have long hair to be a princess.  I’m not sure she has seen the movie Tangled yet but Rapunzel isn’t less of a princess after her haircut.  And Rapunzel and I are sporting basically the same cut now.  And I already found my prince charming (Arthur).  Omnia Vincit Amor. 

Get me to the church on time

Saturday morning dawned into another beautiful day.  We were getting up early to ride our bikes on the KATY trail.  The KATY trail is a railroad track that has been converted into the top multi-use (hiking and biking) trail in America.  While in college I took a week to participate in a bike ride essentially across Missouri on all 250 miles of the KATY trail.  I fell in love and knew I would return and so I finally did.  One of the big benefits to our campgrounds is that it is less than a quarter mile off the KATY trail making it very accessible (except that quarter mile is up a sizeable hill).  Since it is an old railroad bed there are small towns about every 8-10 miles that sprung up because of the railroad and now serve as trail heads to bikers as opportunities to stop and eat, fix a bike, or spend the night.  Some of these small towns have really thrived because of the trail tourists.  

Our route that morning started following the base of the limestone river bluffs along the Missouri River.  It then opened up into the river bottom farm ground with fields of tall corn and beans.  Here and there on the hillsides would be wineries since it is also home to the heart of Missouri’s wine country.  Along with experiencing the changing landscape there was quite a bit of wildlife.  A lot of birds darting across the trail.  We saw a muskrat at one of the small creek crossings.  I about rode my bike off the trail watching a turkey vulture flying circles—bird watching and biking don’t mix well.  Arthur about wiped out when a long black snake startled him on the trail.  

At each trail head there is historical information about the town, what points of interest are along the trail before the next stop, and information about what’s going on in the community such as events, restaurants, etc.  Trail heads also usually include a bathroom and some even had tools for basic bike repair.  The trail heads were a great place to chat with some of the others out on the trail.  We met a group of ladies from Kansas who come out for a ladies weekend every year to ride.  Another guy was planning to ride about 100 miles that day.  There were people who had lots of gear and were planning on doing several days and those dressed to go 5 miles on the trail.  One of the towns was hosting a poker ride that morning so cyclists road to different locations picking up cards to see who has the “best hand” at the end.  We easily saw a hundred people out on their bikes during our ride.  

We rode about 40 miles and were on a little bit of a time crunch to be back for the wedding.  We were having a blast the first 20 miles, a good time for the next 10, and for the last 10 our feelings went from “This was fun but I have had enough” to “I can’t stand being on this bike another second”.  With biking there is always some butt soreness and after a certain amount of time the feet and hands might get numb and tingly.  As we turned the corner of the trail and up the hill to camp it became evident that our tanks were empty.

The next stage was transforming from people clothed in spandex bike shorts to those in wedding attire all while at a campground.  I might have gotten a few looks as I was standing in the bath house curling my hair in a dress instead of shorts and a t-shirt like normal camper attire.  We also had to break camp and get everything loaded in the car.  We were cutting it pretty close so we decided to get a few burgers for lunch and Arthur changed at the restaurant.  He comes out to our table looking very nice in his shirt and tie until I see that he is wearing his green running shoes with neon yellow laces (when he first bought these shoes it was discussed that these shouldn’t ever be worn in public because they are hideous colors.)  My heart sank as I realize that his dress shoes are in the trunk of our car which is inaccessible because we have loaded the bike rack on the trunk. There wasn’t time to get the shoes and we didn’t even have to time sit and eat so we are trying to eat fast food burgers driving down the interstate and not drip any on our clothing-- oh the risks that we take.  As we make the turn off to the church (10 minutes till “kick-off”) the road we were planning on taking is close so we go down to find the next main street to loop around.  Which is closed.  It is now 8 minutes till and we have no idea how to get to the frontage road to get to the church.  Our St. Louis map doesn’t have detailed roads in this portion of town.  In desperation I call my dad to have him look at Google maps for directions.  As it turns out according to Google there is only one way to this church on the road we can’t find the turn.  We back track enough and find out that you have to take the on ramp to the interstate to get to the frontage road.  We pull into the parking lot with 5 minutes to go.  Between fatigue from the bike ride, lack of sleep from camping, being short on time, having the wrong shoes,  being hungry, and getting lost—tension may have been a little high between Arthur and myself.  And then we sat through a wedding and were reminded how insignificant these little things (even the fashion faux pas of neon shoes) in light of the marvelous opportunity to spend life together with each other.  

The groom was one of Arthur’s fraternity brothers and it was special to share in their special day.  The reception was later in the afternoon so I had a chance to take a nap and Arthur was able to change his shoes and all was right with the world.  The reception was a great time of catching up with other FarmHouse couples.  Arthur’s favorite part was discussing theology with one of the guys who is in seminary.  Occasionally I was able to steal my husband away from theology for a slow dance or two on the dance floor.  After the wedding several of the guys got together to play Settlers of Cataan into the night.

As I was retelling this story to patients who asked about my vacation the common response was, "What were you thinking trying to bike and get to a wedding?"  In retrospect we probably were trying to fit too much into one day but when on vacation-- Carpe Diem.  Omnia Vincit Amor.  (That's a lot of Latin in a row so here is the translation:  Sieze the day.  Love conquers all.)

Crazy people just have more fun

On Friday we got up early since we had a full day of activities planned.  After a simple breakfast of granola at our campsite we got an early start to try to beat the heat.  We went out to the Lewis and Clark trail at a nearby conservation area.  Our early start found us walking in the cool of the day surrounded by the glorious sounds of a forest at day break.   We saw a deer and really enjoyed listening to all the different bird sounds and identifying the ones we were familiar with.  Everything was so green in the forest canopy.  The trail went up and down the limestone river bluffs and ridges.  With clear pathways and spectacular views of the Missouri River this was definitely a wonderful experience. 

 

Exploring just like Lewis and Clark

I have always wanted to be a model for REI

After our hike we drove into St. Louis and went to the zoo.  Initially the zoo was a bit overwhelming.  We ended up walking around with a large groups of kids and the area felt crowded compared the the solitude from the trail that morning.  But eventually we were able to separate ourselves from other packs and really enjoyed walking around the grounds with many of the buildings from the 1904 Worlds Fair hosted in that location and enjoyed viewing all of God’s creation.    Our favorite animals were the penguins (maybe because it was freezing cold in that exhibit), the elephants, the tortoises, and the takin (what was God thinking when He created this interesting animal). 

Our next stop was the St. Louis Art Museum which I have previously written about here.  After eating in the museum café I looked forward to sharing with my beloved Alex this place that had inspired my imagination so much.  I was shocked at how quickly we ended up moving through the museum relative to my first time.  (Editorial note: It took us 2 hours to finish the first floor and a total of 5 hours for the entire museum which seemed like an adequate amount of time) It turns out Alex has no pathological need to read every card and description.  But that was all right.

 Somewhere in the Pacific Island art area we found a corner with a couch and coffee table with art books.  We sat down; Alex was tired from not sleeping well and we had already been on a 8 mile hike and walked around a zoo.  It didn't take long looking through the art books to drift off to a much needed nap.  Our read aloud book on this trip was a favorite from Alex's childhood-- From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler.  In this book two children run away from home and live at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York for a few weeks.  The idea of living in a museum has always been fascinating and our nap on the couch was just a taste.   Alex was shocked at how well I knew where the exhibits were relative to one another in a large building I had been in once before, considering how consistently I need her help navigating to familiar locations.    By this time we had been on our feet the vast majority of the day and my poor Alex was very tired.  

 Our dining that evening was at Red Lobster.  After saving money by camping out for 2 nights we figured we could eat a really nice dinner.  We both picked a combination of items to try and shared our fish and shrimp dishes to experience as much as possible.  As we were sitting at dinner we discussed the day-- a beautiful 8 mile hike, a few hours in the heat at a zoo with all the 5 year olds in the greater St. Louis area, and 5 hours of seeing every artifact in the St. Louis Art Museum.  We might be just a little bit crazy for trying to fit all of this into one vacation but we were sure having a lot of fun on this trip.Thus with full bellies and tired feet we headed off to sleep under the stars.