Adventures: This one in Arizona

December 2015 we surprised the kids with a trip to Arizona. This was a working trip for Aaron but with both of his brothers and both of mine living in the Grand Canyon state it was a nice trip to tag along with.

Arizona 2015

Arizona 2015

Arizona 2015

Arizona 2015

We did plenty of hiking, a day trip to Sedona, sightseeing, off-roading, and visiting close by parks and state parks.

Arizona 2015

Arizona 2015

Arizona 2015

Arizona 2015

Arizona 2015

Arizona 2015

Arizona 2015

Arizona 2015

Arizona 2015

Arizona 2015

I’m feeling a little but of the wanderlust this season … ready for another adventure. A flight, an open road, a few minutes beneath the sun. With our kids being the ages they are (12 and 8) we’re starting to think about some different destinations. Where have you been (with or without kids) and what should we do/see/experience? I grew up globe trotting so over-seas itineraries don’t bother me at all. I have my eye on London, but weirdly also Ireland and Sweden. Or closer to home trips are fine too. I’m not really bothered by distance or lack thereof. Let’s just get going.

Where have you been?

Fall Camping

We took advantage of a school break to have one more camping adventure of the year in Northern Michigan. We stayed at Platte River Campground in the Sleeping Bear Dunes and ventured to Frankfort, Beulah, Traverse City, Empire and Glen Arbor for a color tour/food/things to do/and to listen to podcasts before bed.

Fall Camping 2016
Platte River Campground, Fall 2016
Platte River Campground, Fall 2016
Platte River Campground, Fall 2016

We hiked to the beach, made a teepee with fallen trees, cooked over the fire, drank lots of tea and hot chocolate, hung around in hammocks, played soccer and read. It was chilly and a bit rainy one of the days but we stayed warm and dry.

Platte River Campground, Fall 2016
Platte River Campground, Fall 2016
Platte River Campground, Fall 2016
Fall Camping 2016
Fall Camping 2016
Fall Camping 2016
Fall Camping 2016
Fall Camping 2016
Fall Camping 2016
Fall Camping 2016
Fall Camping 2016
Platte River Campground, Fall 2016
Fall Camping 2016
Fall Camping 2016
Platte River Campground, Fall 2016

We saw a fox! Lots of deer and squirrels and every brilliant fall color.

Resources and places to visit:

**Take the M22 drive
**Stop for coffee and bagels at Leelanau Coffee Roasters in Glen Arbor
**Make a special stop for the kids in your car at The Cherry Republic (they do pop tastings!)
**Grab a hot chocolate to walk around with or sit and stay and enjoy a beer at Brew in Traverse City
**Once you’ve satisfied your craving, head to Brilliant Books for some inspiration and to catch up on your favorite authors
**If you’re hungry make a special trip to Harvest (in Traverse) or Stormcloud (in Frankfort)
**If you just want a snack and a glass of wine with a view or you want to wrap up the wine trail with a memorable tradition – head to Brys Estate Winery for a glass of wine and a cheese board on their deck
**Then sneak down to their Secret Garden with your kids (or friends) and giggle with delight (maybe nightcap it with some apple cider)
**For a memorable afternoon with friends or older kids who love outdoor activities, make a stop at Hop Lot for a fire and games (their tacos are not to be argued with, either)
**A weekend for just the two of you? Make it special with dinner at 9 Bean Rows
**Have the kids along? There’s still something for you at their bakery to take home – 9 Bean Rows Bakery

I love Michigan and traditions. When the two meet, fall in love and make out passionately in the back of my car? We make memories.

Washington, 2016

This past summer we took off for the PNW taking a week to road trip west, a month to stay in one place, and a week to road trip back east to the midwest. So far, here’s what I’ve documented: Day 1, South Dakota, Custer State Park, etc, Mt Rushmore and the Black Hills, Montana, Day 6, 7 and 8, as well as a few posts about our time in Washington: Home and Like you, Like me.

I haven’t been able to write about our time away yet, I thought it was because there was so much to tell you, to unpack, but I think it’s because I wasn’t ready to share it. It took an entire year of planning to even get there and the year it took was a hard one. There was so much good but so much hard good and getting to the end of the plan and experiencing it first hand was spiritual for me. I needed this summer, those people, my people. I needed that place and the space to unwind, to spread out without anyone watching me. I needed to be a in place where I could blend in and not stand out, where I didn’t recognize faces and wasn’t recognizable. Even though I looked like everyone else, even though I was among people who would know me, who could really see me.

First morning in Washington, Home.

First morning in Washington, Home.

I ran away, to some extent. Far away. The farthest I could go for as long as I could go. I was trying to leave a few things behind and pick up a few more along the way. I had ideas and all kinds of expectations that quickly went to the wayside.

We got to our rental house and unpacked and then I made dinner.

Cooking

Cooking

Cooking

Furiously chopping and pouring, simmering and steaming. The little kitchen didn’t have a chance. I’d like to think of it as a yoga for the mind. I worked so much out in that little kitchen. Without modern tools to help along the way, every batch of cookies or bread I made, I did by hand. No power tools. Just me and a whisk, a wooden spoon. And I counted the minutes it took to knead a loaf of bread and I let the sweat drip down my face as I knit my entire back in knots over countless batches of cookie dough. I let the kids think it was the onions that made me cry, even though the tears didn’t stop well past the chopping.

Home

I accomplished the things I thought I wanted to. I saw and introduced and explored the landscape of my heart and I walked those roads, up and down, back and forth. Disappearing into the pines, letting the rains baptize me in the moment. I was there for guts and glory and I wasn’t going anywhere until I undid myself.

2016-06-23 07.28.48

2016-06-23 07.33.57

Just as soon as we arrived, we quickly began a routine of picking berries with my Aunt. Not just any berries. PNW berries from the very capital of the entire world of berry producing soil. Whatcom County. And it was berry season. And I had arrived.

Picking blueberries

Picking blueberries

A month in Washington

Picking blueberries

Picking blueberries

There was a romance in those fields. Heavy, ripe fruit bending it’s branches. You would touch them and they’d fall into your hands. It never took more than half an hour to fill alllllll our bowls and buckets and we’d laugh and eat so many that our tummies would hurt and we’d guess how long it would take for us to run out and return to the rows.

We’d go in the middle of the day, at the end of the day, just before sunset, at dusk. We’d go mid morning and quick before dinner, right after dessert, and before the movie started. We went and went and went. Back to the field, back to the rows, back to the fertile soil.

Picking blueberries

Picking blueberries

And it became a rhythm for me, a meditation of our time spent there. A place to go, a reason to return. To the fields. To the dirt by the mountains kissed by the misty rain under the sun and the wide open sky and where I found myself. Where I found myself dancing and laughing and eating and being merry and in love and in communion and in relationship and together, with my family.

Picking blueberries

Like I had never not been there in the first place. Like I was always where I belonged. Like I had never left.

Like I never would.

Cooking Club Up North 2016

This past weekend I was in Nothern Michigan with my Cooking Club. We get together once a month for dinner at someones house (we rotate hosting). The rules are: you make food you wouldn’t normally make for your family or your family wouldn’t really appreciate (most of us have young families, so throwing carrots is the main event at dinner. Not always eating, or even enjoying dinner together). Also read Shauna Neiquests book “Bread and Wine” for more inspiration to start your own.

The host comes up with a theme for dinner ei: “green,” “mexican,” “PB&J,” or “soup” and the like, then each member claims a course. Appetizers, drinks, the host does the main dish, a starch, salad, dessert. You all bring tupperware for the leftovers and share the recipes once dinner is over via a private pinterest page. We keep a record of the themes, who brought what, and who hosted last; as well as a list of ideas/dreams to one day do together. We just crossed off “Wine tasting/Cook together weekend.” Every month we merrily abandon our duties of the table to our spouses and children while we shop, prepare, and make one exquisite course to share among ourselves. For just one night a month – we share a table with enthusiasm, toast to good fortune, and get to know each other a little bit more without distraction.

We very much want you to have a cooking club so if you need permission for one more thing to fit into your month: this one is worth it. Gather a few friends or folks you’d love to get to know and invite them to the table. It’s been a beautiful rhythm in my life, and I owe it all to my friend Jeannette for getting it off the ground.

We spent the weekend wine tasting, cooking together, laughing and singing, watching the Olympics, driving all over Northern Michigan, eating, paddle boarding and kayaking, sleeping, and hiking/walking/yoga-ing. There were a few squats in there, some leg lifts. A posture demonstration. And lots of discussion about our kids, oily skin, and hair care (ps, don’t wash your hair every day). I may have fallen down some slippery steps in the rain as we were packing up to go home. It’s possible I have a blue leg to prove it.

Worth it.

A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club

Our first menu of the weekend included: A cheese plate with homemade hummus, (Tahini from Jerusalem? Yes.) all the cheeses, fruits, veggies, crackers and breads. Moscow Mules for appetizers, white wine with dinner which was Lobster Alfredo, caprese salad, roasted asparagus, crusty/rustic bread, and homemade strawberry sour cream ice cream with biscuits and whipped cream.

A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club

It took us a good 6 hours to prep, make, and actually eat this feast.

The next day we woke up and did not wash our hair. Drank coffee while we got ready and packed up snacks for the day on the road. We had a plan and we were off to conquer it. First stop? The cheese shanty in Leland – their pretzel bread sells out fast and we needed that bread. Then a hike to the Empire Bluff to eat those coveted sandwiches and sweat, on to our wine tasting tour beginning with Cherry Republic in Glen Arbor (please go to Glen Arbor, every body. Just go. It’s my favorite.) and then meandering around the peninsula stopping at various wineries ending up at Tandem Ciders before toasting the day complete at the original Moomers for an ice cream dinner.

A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club
From the left: Kara, Beth, me, Laura, Jeannette, Stacey
A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club

We worked out when we got back to the cottage for the night. And then we ate some more cheese.

Sunday morning we woke up and took our time drinking coffee, and then more coffee. We all made our way on to the dock to paddle board and kayak before getting back in the kitchen together to prep brunch, toast bloody mary’s, and eventually eat our last meal of the weekend together. We planned on walking after brunch (before heading home) when it started raining. So we cleaned up and closed up the cottage to the cadence of the water falling outside and then piled back in to the van to head home. Slowly. With deliberate stops to drive down main-streets with our windows open and the music blasting. We were those people. I love those people.

A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club
A weekend away with Cooking Club

Our brunch menu on Sunday was frittata, parfaits, french toast, dry rubbed bacon, the green well salad from Shauna’s book, and Mimosa’s.

And I returned home full in a way I hadn’t expected.

I can’t come back

We’ve been home, as in back in Michigan, now for a little over a week. I know the previous posts would have you thinking we are only almost to our destination of OTHER but that’s because I’ve been storing up all these stories and feelings while still trying to keep a log of this trip so we’ll never forget. I brought with me 5 blank journals because I was going to write everything down. I was going to decompress and be ridiculous and think up and think through and journal my dreams and have amazing alone time and guess what? I journaled one time. I took some notes and I journaled one time and those five blank journals took this trip with me just in case I couldn’t hold it in.

But instead of writing it all down to keep, I felt it instead. I didn’t save my thoughts, I spoke them. I didn’t wish my dreams into reality, I was living them.

Before we even left last June (and maybe even May) I kept worrying that by leaving for such a long period of time I would also be leaving my place in line. Like, the relationships I cherished, people I loved and did life with, that somehow by me leaving there would be this vacancy in my spot to fill and I would come back to an empty life.

Fort Worden, Day 8

None of that is or was true, obviously, nothing changed in the best way. Except for me. And us.

And I can’t come back. I haven’t figured out how to come home again.