Posts Tagged ‘Adventure’

This was written a week ago, today while we were driving to Orlando, from North Port, Florida:

We are enroute to Disney World, to do a little Mouse hunt!

According to my 11-yr old son visiting the Magic Kingdom is the number 1 reason to visit Florida.

Going on the rides, at the Magic Kingdom, is the number 1 reason to visit Florida, according to my 14-yr. old daughter.

Dining with Cinderella, at the Magic Kingdom is the number 1 reason to visit Florida, according to my 18-yr old daughter.

But for my hubby and I, going to the beach is the number 1 reason to visit Florida!

We are on the west coast of Florida … the Gulf Coast … the clear turquoise water coast … the temperature of which was 78 degrees yesterday! Why would anyone go to Mexico, when they could come here? It is totally beautiful, and the city we are staying is so clean! (heck, why would anyone live on the Pacific Northwest coast? You can buy a house here for just over $100,000 … that’s barely a down payment on a house on the Pacific North WET coast … where the water temperature of Georgia Strait was 48 degrees yesterday! … just sayin’ …)

But, I digress from our mouse hunt.

So, we are now enroute to Orlando, to spend the day with Mickey, Bambi, Dumbo, and yes Cinderella. The last time I was here we came with our, then 18 month old daughter, and I really do not remember much of it. Today will be great, because our kids are old enough that they should remember this for life, and hubby and I are young enough that we shouldn’t forget it for quite some time. Hubby will probably remember more clearly than me, as he keeps hyperventilating whenever he thinks of the cost!

So, my question is, what will be memorable about today’s mouse hunt? Will it be the 18 year old’s lunch with Cinderella? The 11 year old’s riding on Space Mountain? The 13 year old’s experience of riding every ride in the park? Hubby’s passing out cold, and experiencing chest pains related to thinking too long about the cost of a hot dog in the park?  Or my vomiting on everyone below me, after eating that $6 hot dog, and then promptly going on Space mountain? Now those are the memories to make a scrapbook of!

I am not sure what memories we will gather today, but I know we will be gathering them. And, I expect, the memories that we take from today that will be the most memorable, the most long lasting will be the ones we experience with a sense of humor, a sense of intimacy with each other, a sense of ‘awe, a sense of … wonder.

And really, if we walk away from today (if we can all still walk after a day in the Magic Kingdom), with tired smiles on our faces, pictures to put in the scrapbooks, memories of laughing together (at each other, no doubt), and having experience a sense of wonder, all that money (currently giving hubby heart palipatations) will have been well spent.

So rodents, look out, we are on our way,and we we will snap you up (for the scrapbook, of course).

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I have experience the longest four weeks of my life, with hubby, our son, and youngest daughter away on an adventure! The feeling has been similar to the expectancy of the birth of a baby, or the waiting for your wedding day! And, with all three of these times of waiting, they culminate with embracing, words of love and drinking in their scent, which you know so intimately as belonging to someone who is yours.

Kind of like … dogs. You know, you take your beast for a walk, and are walking towards another person and their beast. Both people say ‘hi’, and the beasts … well they go for the sniff and lick … seriously, THAT is something I can’t wait to get to heaven and ask God that most theological of questions … ‘why do dogs sniff each other’s butts?’ But I digress.

But really, the familiarity of a scent, that is the evidence of an intimate relationship.

To inhale their scent, that, to a mom, says they are mine. I remember one other time when hubby was away, and, on the phone I told him that I missed his scent. His response was to pass gas, so I could at least hear it … we are so from two very different planets! Believe me, there are some scents that, as a woman, I could never miss! (I know this is a universal woman thing too … a few weeks back, my daughter says, ‘Mom, I so miss having girls with me … my brother had a chili dog today … and I’m confined to the car with the effects of it!’).

bad smell

We may know many people, and we might even know their cologne, or perfume, or hand lotion, or even soap, but to know their individual scent … your relationship has to be closer, more physical, more intimate.

When I go to the East Coast to visit my family, it is not just my mother’s embrace that holds me to her, but her familiar scent. I cannot imagine anything forcing the memory of the scent of my mom from my mind.

I am sure I could be blindfolded, and still be able to identify those most intimately connected to me, by sniffing their necks (okay, it would also be easy to identify hubby, as his is covered with whiskers).

Now, don’t get me wrong, we are not just sitting around sniffing each other. We will talk, we will hug (we are ‘huggers’), we will play, we will travel, we will see sights, we will go to the beach (I wonder if the South East Beach smells like a North East beach? I swear I can still be one hundred miles from the East Coast, and I can smell it … home). But those first moments, those first hours together, it is our sense of smell that was and will be most keenly reunited.

“Everyday, you make me smile.
Everyday, you make me glad to be a mother.
Everyday, you make a memory I’ll never want to forget.
Everyday, I’m more thankful than the day before that you are my little boy/girl.
Everyday, I smell your hair and touch your skin
and wonder
how I ever lived my life without you.
Unknown Author

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So, I told you yesterday that I had a hiking story. And it comes from the retreat that I wrote about yesterday … so, this could be “Retreat … the Sequel”

On Saturday the weather was … west coast (aka. rain, showers and sprinkles, followed by monsoons).

We started the day with a delicious breakfast of Belgian Waffles, Oatmeal, Fresh Fruit, etc., etc., etc. … none of which did we have to make :D.

Then we had our study time on what is really awesome, and learned that to use the word awesome to describe waffles (no matter how mouth-watering good … mainly because we didn’t have to make them) is really not the way to use ‘awesome’.

The study time was followed by lunch, and it was awesome really good (and we didn’t have to make it).

The afternoon was open to ‘free time’, but there were the options of a craft …

OK I need to segue …

crafts … this is an area of failure for me, in my life.

And, what’s worse, one of my kids LOVES to do crafts.

As a matter of fact, once, after hubby and I had been away,

said (crafty) child says to me, upon our return,

“Mom, look at the crafts our babysitter taught me to do,

do you think that she could teach


how to do crafts?”

(my, silent, response, ‘NO’)

… and a hike, and a nap, and games to play, and (because it was a ‘woman’s’ retreat … chocolate to eat). So, I did the craft (photo of that tomorrow), had a nap, ate the chocolate, and took a hike, because the sun had come out.

The hike was described to me this way, ‘it take about an hour and starts out muddy, it’s pretty easy in the beginning, then gets more steep towards the top’. I was up for the challenge, besides, the sun decided to shine and it gave me the opportunity for an intake of Vitamin D. Besides, I love the great outdoors! I just have a problem with the great outdoors that is fast enough, big enough and hungry enough to eat me (is this sounding familiar from my post “Walking Alone in a Wonder-filled Life”?). So, hiking with a group should eliminate this fear … right?

Because I have such strong feelings towards … wet weather, I donned my water-proof jacket, to ensure that it would, indeed, not rain (had I not brought my jacket, Murphy would have guaranteed a 60 minute down-poor, equal only to Noah’s flood).

Sure enough, the path was muddy, in the beginning. But certainly passable.

Then it got steeper and steeper … a good challenge to my ‘maturing’ body. I enjoyed the increase in heart rate, and oxygen intake. And I was having a delightful conversation with a young woman (when I was still able to breath … huff and puff … from the steepness of the path) … life was indeed … good.

Then it happened. The worst thing that anyone could EVER say to me (next to, ‘there is a bear behind, in front of or beside you’), “watch out for the snake.”

Well, if you have ever wanted to see fear personified, you should have been on that hike with me.

I looked up, not down, because I knew that if I had actually seen the snake at me feet, I would have fainted, and then it would, certainly, have crawled on top of me and waited on my chest, peering into my eyes so that, once I came to, it would have killed me, so that I would know it was killing me.

Then I moved my feet in a manner similar to a leprechaun’s dance on St. Patty’s Day, while, of course moving forward, in hopes that my forward was the snakes backward.

OK I need to segue …

I HATE snakes!

If you ask hubby, he will tell you that

when I am having a dream/nightmare/night terror

about snakes

you DO NOT want to be the person sleeping beside me.

What is ‘just a dream’

to him

Is VERY REAL to me,

and I will do, and scream, what I must to ensure

that I get freed from the snake.

… enough said …

(but, this might be a future post)

Then I stopped, a good many feet ‘forward’ looking to my companion, who at about the age of sixteen, was laughing hysterically (probably wishing she had caught all of my antics on video so she could broadcast them on YouTube, or enter the video into an Americas Best Video Contest. She laughed even longer than my psychosis lasted!)

Finally she pointed out the snake, and it was … dead! (I was hearing the Hallelujah chorus all through my being). The snake was headless! … now, it didn’t have to be headless to be dead, but, in my psychotic episode, God knew I need undeniable proof that the snake was really dead, otherwise, I might still be up on that mountain!

So, back to the hike …

Once our four fellow hikers arrived, and ‘admired’ the dead snake (I am confident the only snake to be admired is a dead one), we continued on. Our leader said, ‘now the path gets steep’.

Well I thought my head would spin like in the Poltergeist movie. Because I was pretty confident that I had already done the ‘steep’ part of the trail! My heart rate actually had no where to increase when I experienced the fear of the snake!

So, off we trod … after all I had faced the fear of the snake, whats a steep hill?

Well this hill needed a bungy cord! It was a path that has trees along it … so that you can grab them and pull yourself up. Man, was I missing my ‘eager beaver beast’ who would have hauled my sorry butt up that hill!

But, we made it, and it was spectacular! There was an, enormous hawk glide by … but I was thinking eagle (I have a rather vivid imagination 😉 … like you didn’t know that already) …

“those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.”

Isaiah 40:31

and that, is what retreat is all about.

P.S.: For those who understand what a fear of snakes is like, would you believe that, even though it was headless, and must have been dead for awhile, it was still moving a bit when we came down the mountain … now that is the stuff that nightmares are made of!




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So, it’s been a week since part of my family left. And, man, have I accomplished lots!

I’ve worked in the garden (freshly laid out grass seeds are currently being drenched by yet another ‘mini’ monsoon), organized ‘piles’ of stuff to put elsewhere (some of us are ‘pilers’ and some of us are … messy), taken a day trip with eldest daughter (you will so be hearing about that trip!) and cleaned the house (a very full, extremely heavy, garbage can was taken to the curb last night … not this morning, as is often the case, when another (male) resident of the house frequently chases the garbage truck down the street, with the can … name withheld to protect the guilty).

It has been a good week!

But the dancing through the house in my undies like Tom Cruise in ‘Risky Business’ (yet another indicator of just how archaic I am, AND an added bonus for those who know me is to now have been given FAR too much information, and a visual that they just do not want) is now past. And I am missing my Baby Girl 😦

It is not that she is the only one I am missing … I do miss her brother and her dad, but tonight when Skype was choppy (grrrrrr!), and she kept getting ‘offlined’ by Facebook … my heart just longed for her. It felt as though she and I needed to be together, and the big, bad technology gods were not letting it happen.

It was one of those momma-longings. I remember when she would be sleeping (finally … let me tell you the moments I am about to share were pretty much non-existent for the first two sleepless years of her life) and I would look in on her and everything within me wanted to pick her up and just ‘drink in’ her unique scent …

By the way, for those first two years I NEVER actually did pick her up … heck, I was so sleep deprived that I rarely checked on her if she was sleeping … sleep was a longing that this momma rarely ever had fulfilled.But, I digress.

Anyway, tonight as I ‘chatted-choppily’ on Skype with her dad and brother, I got this longing for her. Then, when she still hadn’t ‘appeared’ in the conversation, I realized that she might be struggling with the thunderstorm they were having, and I NEEDED MY BABY GIRL. Because, even if the thunderstorm was not bothering her mature Middle School person, it was bothering her momma here that I could not hold her in my arms.

I’m so glad times have changed, and that she doesn’t leave me sleep-deprived anymore (of course I recognize that surely that will re-occur in the years to come). I’m so glad that I am not scared to go and watch her sleep peacefully (this does not happen late at night, as I am old, and she is … adolescent. It happens anytime before noon, but after 6am, when I awaken). I am so glad that, even though she is adolescent (and I am … old) we both need to hold each other.

So, Baby Girl, whether you read this tonight, or tomorrow morning (or, in 10 years, because you think reading your mom’s blog is ‘lame’) I want you to know that when you were in Middle School your mom longed to hold you, and talk to you (and give you hints about what I got you for your birthday), and …

I miss you Baby Girl, sleep well.


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