Where I've Been, and What We'll Be Eating

Hola`! After a month-long blog "sabbatical," I'm officially back. Not that I had a choice of coming back, after all, my family knew where I was and would've used whatever means necessary to haul my tail back home.

So, where was I? Well, part of the time, I was busy packing for a trip abroad. The other part? I was mentally preparing for a child-less trip to Cancun, Mexico. After taking numerous road trips over the years with 9 or 10 children in tow, it takes a completely different mind-set to ready oneself for an adults-only resort vacation. Oh, but what a quick learner I was!

A view of the Caribbean Sea from our 10th floor hotel window

Being a creature of habit, I'm not one to venture too far from home. I have a healthy fear of flying, don't like large crowds, and am a somewhat (☺) of a control freak. My only expectations were to take a nap on the beach and have someone else cook meals for me that didn't make me sick. I thought with my expectations low, I couldn't be disappointed. But I ended up conquering fears and living out dreams I never even knew I had. 

On the island of Isla Mujeres

I embraced my inner Audrey Hepburn and glammed it up on a white sandy beach.

Shortly before we headed in to a 3-1/2 hour couples massage/pampering. Glory be. That was my idea of a vacation.

The Mister and I rediscovered what it was like to be responsibility-free, if only for a few days.

I embraced the sunshine...

Within 2 minutes, my little chameleon friend turned as orange as I was.

...even though it didn't embrace me back.

I became one with nature.

In the jungle, where it was habanero HOT!

Iguana's everywhere! I called this one, Gus.

And the Mister & I held a shark. Okay, it was toothless and a vegetarian, but it was a shark and we're darn lucky to be alive. *wink*

Little did we know, there was a second shark in the pen with us.

I was able to share in the joy of seeing my Mister fulfill his life-long dream of captaining a catamaran in the Caribbean, and I even witnessed Jesus taking the wheel.

Captain Jesus and my Mister sailing the catamaran and all 45 passengers back to the Port of Tortuga (It really exists!)

And finally, I was able to see a piece of history that I have dreamed about since I was 10 years old. The Mayan ruins...even though most of it was seen through sweat and tears of joy. (Have I mentioned that it was hot?)

Brother, sis-in-law, me, and the Mister at the Pyramid of Kukulcan ~ Chichen Itza Ruins

Las Monjas or the Building of the Nuns

The Temple of the Jaguars



The Astronomical Observatory, which was still hidden among the jungle vines less than 20 years ago.

Now that we've gotten the hang of how to relax and be tourists, we'll be doing this again next year...with a little extra sunblock and a whole lot of expectations. ☺

Because I couldn't bring the fabulous chef's from Cancun home with me, it's time to get back to real-life meal planning. Here's what's cookin' this week...

~Sunday~

cereal

Cinco de Mayo Casserole, guacamole (recipe coming this week!), tortilla chips

 

~Monday~

Raw Greek Yogurt (recipe coming), fruit of choice, toasted almonds

leftover Cinco de Mayo casserole, green salad with Kefir Ranch Dressing

 

~Tuesday~

Speltcakes with peach puree "syrup"

Butternut Squash Enchiladas (new)

 

~Wednesday~

Baked Peanut Butter Oatmeal, banana

Meatloaf, roasted Rosemary Red Potatoes, green salad with balsamic vinegar/olive oil dressing

 

~Thursday~

Cinnamon Spice Granola with raw milk

Parmesan-crusted tilapia (new), Risotto, steamed broccoli

 

~Friday~

Design-an-Omelet

Barbequed chicken, Roasted No-Mayo Potato Salad, fresh fruit

 

~Saturday~

Banana Walnut Muffins, bacon

Homemade Barbeque Chicken Pizza (gluten-free)

 

 



so this is how it feels...

Sunrise over the Cascade Mountain Range

When my Mister informed me that he was taking me to the mountains for our 25th anniversary, I had visions of hunting camp bouncing around my memory bank. Memories like; no electricity; meals I had to prepare in my long johns and mittens, laundry that piled up in the corner of our own little icebox camper; showers that could only be taken if we had enough change for the machine; and toilets with no doors. (Only the not-so-pleasant memories managed to surface.) When he told me that I wouldn't be needing my rolls of quarters or a frying pan, I was sceptical. And when he took me shopping for snow boots and ski pants, I was downright scared. The last time I wore ski pants was not a pleasant memory. There were ski's, screaming, a chair lift, more screaming, and a lot of children dodging bodies on the mountainside...it was positively frightening.

Then he said the magic words.

Private cabin with a 5-star chef. (Well, actually, he said "kid-free" first, just to grab my attention, but this one had more of an impact.)

It was pure bliss. Blissful. Blissdom. Blissiful.

Now that the reality of our return home has hit us upside the head, I thought I'd relive a few memories that my Mister and I made during our 25th wedding anniversary trip.

Well, not all of them...did I mention the Jacuzzi tub in our room? No? Well, never mind then...☺

The view from our cabin

Because of the recent snowfall, we had to be shuttled the 2.5 miles up the mountain.

Our "taxi" up the mountain

My Mister really liked the Arctic Cat and her baby, the Snow Cat

 When we arrived, the gas fire was on, music was playing, and wine was being chilled in the mini refrigerator.

Our very own cabin, "Ponder Rock"

 

Mozart in the background and a cozy fire that didn't require hauling firewood.

 Breakfast was served, buffet style, between 8:30 and 9:30.

Heading to breakfast required snow boots and fleece

 Snow shoes and cross-country ski's were provided to the guests after we signed a waiver releasing the owners if we were injured on the trail.

Nothing strikes fear into me faster than a waiver.

The cabin even came with my own personal "stud muffin"

 The first morning, we headed up to a place called "Lookout Ridge". Had it just been a leisurely 2.2 mile walk on a nicely groomed trail during the summer, I probably wouldn't have hyperventilated.

Snow shoeing~Day 1 and slightly overdressed

My Mister is much more level-headed than I. He completes me. And I tell him "No!" when he starts to venture off the beaten path.

I guess I complete him too.

The Mister "breaking trail"

Next time one of us gets a wild idea to take a short hike, up a mountain, wearing a pair of snow shoes, I would really appreciate an emphasis on the "up the mountain" part of this idea. Before we get all of our gear on.

A view on the way up.

 In case you were wondering, 2.2 miles up the side of a mountain, is a very long walk.

But so worth it when we reached the top!

We made it!!! And there were other people!!! Whew.

Who knew that after worrying about being eaten by mountain lion's and bears (who may or may not have gotten the memo about it being hibernation time), that we would make the trek back up the mountain the very next day?

Snow shoeing~Day 2...higher and slightly wiser about the wardrobe.

 Day 2 took us on a 4-plus mile hike that ended early. This old gal just didn't have that extra half mile in her. There's something to that saying, "The spirit's willing, but the flesh is weak."

I'll do it next time.

My Mister contacted his inner child and together they decided to hit the sledding hill. Maybe it was the fact that the run was 1700 feet long. Maybe it was the fact that there was a grove of young Aspen trees at the bottom.

We'll never know for sure, but I'm guessing I abstained because of the 1700 foot walk back up the sledding hill!

My Mister playing on the 1700' sledding hill

 Dinner menu for our last night~Basque Influenced Roasted Game Hens with a Winter Fruit Compote Medley, Buttered Baby Red Potatoes with Caramelized Sweet Onions, Pecan Crusted Sweet Potatoes, and Fresh Green Beans...

You know if the words "Basque Influenced" and "Compote Medley" are in the description, it's gotta be good.

4-course meal prepared by Chef Tom

After dining on 5 star food for several days, we asked the chef if he offered grief counseling before we left.

Lemon Chiffon Cake with Lodge-made Lemon Curd, frosted with real whipped cream.

Sadly, he did not. Sigh.

Don't worry, we're working through it.

With full bellies and exhausted bodies from playing in the snow all day, the evenings were spent relaxing by the fire in the lodge...

The Lodge's massive fireplace

And later by our own private fire...

As the sun went down on our special trip to the mountains, I had to wonder,

 is this what being a grown-up feels like?☺

#2~You Should Know...

This year my Mister & I will be celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary. That in itself is quite the accomplishment, especially if you've ever had the misfortune to run into me pre-caffeinated. What's even more amazing is that we are going, kid-free, on a little get-a-way.

He had me at "kid-free".

For years we have been making plans to do something big for our silver anniversary. (It is probably no mistake that this coincides with the turning of our hair color.) Places we had pondered were; Italy, Hawaii, Canada, Costa Rica, Montana, and the Mediterranean. Once we realized that there are people at these places, and that our whole objective here is to spend some quality time alone, we nixed those ideas and decided to stay closer to home. Specifically here.

Now that we're heading to a place that requires chains and boots, I have had to expand my wardrobe a little. Here's what I think you should know...

1. If you want to find snow pants in January, you should probably have started looking in August. The pants were on clearance at Christmas, the swimsuits go on clearance on Valentine's Day. Better hurry in case you plan on swimming before winter's even over.

2. The average height of women in the U.S. is 5'foot, 4-1/2 inches. This means that there are a lot more of me (at 5'3") than there are 7 ft. tall women. That said, why in the devil would the makers of ski/snow pants make them 3 feet longer than the average-sized woman?

3. No matter what the pro-shop people tell you, you cannot tuck that extra 3 feet of snow pant into your boots...not if you plan on wearing the boots on your feet. 

4. And those same pro-shop employees do not have the average woman-sized bodies either. At least, not for this town. They should move to Aspen. Or Switzerland. Now.

5. Snow pants should not be low-cut, have embroidery on the backside, or a special cell-phone pocket on the hip. And they should never, ever, ever come in white.

6. Pro-shop people will tell you that white is flattering on all body types. Do not believe them. They were trained to lie.

7. White is not a color you want to be wearing in the event of an avalanche. I do not want to blend with the snow, I want to be found! That said, Safety Orange and Neon Pink are not flattering butt colors either. If I accidently scream something inappropriate while careening down the side of the  mountain, I don't want fingers pointing at the only girl in hot pink pants saying, "It was her!" I want to blend. Give me black.

8. Snow pants at the pro-shop only have a 6-inch clearance from crotch to waist. This means that either the gut or the butt is going in. One or the other, not both. And not without an additional 6 inches of material.

9. The sales person at Walmart understands this. And she saved a single pair of snow pants that would fit a 5'3" Oompah-Loompah like me, just right.

10. That same sales person is now in my will.

Just so you know.☺



Scenes from a Hunter's Camp

As the sun goes down on another hunting season, I thought I'd share some highlights of our trip. In case you're one of those people who is under the illusion that the origin of meat starts in grocery store freezer cases, I'm about to rock your little world. For the freshest, most uncertifiably organic meat available, look no further than the woods beyond the concrete jungle.

The mountains directly above our campsite.

The Quaking Aspens were just starting to turn...

...and finished while were still there.

That black oval? That's my son who thought shooting his first buck down in the pit of a canyon was a good idea. Of course, we did forbid him from going to the top of the mountain...

Tanner and his first buck; a forked horn.

Under Grandpa's careful supervision, dinner was loaded into the trailer for the trek back out of the canyon.

Matthew's first buck; a 3 point. Both were shot within a minute of each other, 60 yards apart...just to make it a little easier on us.

A picture, just to keep the little hunter honest.

Matthew got a little side-tracked when it came to skinning the deer...

...until his Daddy gave him (and Tanner) their own skinning knives.

While I didn't actually hunt, I did enjoy riding the trails with my mom-in-law and daughter, Mandie. Notice the super white tennies...oops.

Mandie made more than $8 collecting cans from the sides of the trails. Apparently, people in this town have not heard of the concept behind "Do Not Drink & Drive".

Even though Annie Oakley, I mean, Heather, didn't get her deer, she did score big in the trash pile someone left behind~perfect fenders for her dirt bike!

Oh Nutella, where have you been all my life?

Until next year...

Thank you Republic!

Lessons from Hunting Camp

In case you didn't know this already, I am currently in hunting camp, bringing a much-needed dose of reality to the men of camp. It seems with the annual sickness known as "Buck Fever", delusional thoughts are not far behind.

Case in point...

"Some guys just came off the hill on their quads and said all the big bucks are about 7 miles up that really steep hill on the other side of the mountain." (Said by an 11 year old in his most manly voice.)

"You mean up that really steep hill that I told you under no circumstances we will ever climb?" (Said by the Daddy bear in his most reasonable voice.)

"Well, those guys said that that's where all the 4 points are...." (The whining begins.)

Then the voice of reason mentions the obvious...

"So did those boys actually show you their prize-winning bucks that they got up on the other side of that mountain?" (Guess whose voice that was?)

"Well, they didn't actually get one..."

My work is never done. Even at hunting camp. While my boy's and one daughter (that I am going to start calling Annie Oakley) are busy scouting for bucks at the bottom of the really big mountain, I've had a little time to ponder certain things of camp life.

1. When a shower charges you 25 cents for 5 minutes of almost-warm-enough water, you can bet that it will take 6.25 minutes to get all the soap out of your eyes. That leaves exactly 3.75 minutes of time to scout out all of the spiders lurking about.

There were 4.

Past tense.

(photo credit)

2. When there has been a cougar sighting in the exact same place your camper now sits, even a squirrel climbing a tree is reason enough to draw your weapon.

Note to self: Get a weapon.

Or a squirrel trap.

3. Big brothers who tease little brothers about not being big enough to handle the kick-back of his rifle are destined to be bitten by the scope of their own gun...

...much to the delight of the younger, blemish-free brother.

4. And finally, no matter how old your children get, a momma is never quite prepared to see this...

...even if she did have to help them get dressed.☺

It's never done.