Tag Archives: Life

Four Years out of Forever

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Saturday was mine and Darren’s four-year wedding anniversary. We were going to go to Quebec City in Canada to celebrate. That’s what we say every year. It’s always so hot and we always say, “you know, it would be so nice up in Canada right now.” But there’s just one thing about Canada…

Back when we were dating, Darren’s family wanted to take me to Canada. that’s a great idea—only I didn’t have a shred of ID on me. No worries, the Andrews say. It’s fine. You’re an American; the Americans will let you come back home. The Canadian border agents weren’t so confident but that didn’t discourage the in-laws. Off to Canada we go. It was lovely, of course—until I wanted to come home.

It turns out the State Troopers working the US/Canadian border aren’t easily charmed when you try coming back into the States without any ID. It doesn’t help that Troopers completely freak me out. What with their puffy pants and tall leather boots, Troopers remind me of two things: Male strippers and nazis. When I’m done giggling about the first, I’m completely freaked out by the second. So I try not to cross them fancy pants Troopers—especially by crossing borders illegally.

I did eventually convince the border agents that I was a very nice law-abiding US citizen. But now I’m scared of Canada. What if the fancy pants Troopers recognize me? What if I forget my Passport again? I think at this point it’s more likely I would row a boat to Cuba than cross the Canadian border with passport in hand.

So00000000000000…….I decided since I’m a good solid Missouri girl, it was time to introduce Darren to all that is the Bass Pro Shop ba da da da dahhhhh <—————- that was dramatic music.

You see, I love Darren and Darren loves boats so what could be better than wandering around the Bass Pro Shop looking at boats? I agree, nothing at all. We had a grand time and Darren even found just the right boat….I mean, not that we bought it, but yes, he found it. Maybe I’ll buy it for him for our 20th anniversary when we are shockingly rich. Yes, probably.

After that we decided on a whim to drive up to Portsmouth, New Hampshire. We always drive over Portsmouth when we cross the bridge from New Hampshire to Maine and we always say, “That town looks cute. We should stop there someday.” So yesterday was someday and we finally went exploring.

Okay, everybody grab a pen and paper; it’s time to take notes. Repeat after me: Portsmouth is the cutest place on earth. Write it down. Don’t forget. Go pack your bags because really, I promise, Portsmouth is the cutest place you’ll ever, ever go. Tonight when Darren falls asleep I’m going to pack up all our worldly goods and move us there. He’ll forgive me eventually and I’m pretty sure it’s worth the risk.

These were some of my favorite things:

There’s a German coffee shop

Darren likes to give me a hard time about my German background. He also likes to remind me of his “pure and far superior English bloodline.” The man thinks he’s royalty. So I couldn’t be more pleased with myself when I got him into a coffee shop flying a German flag right outside.

He’s trying very hard to look like he doesn’t like the coffee but even he had to admit how good it was. Truth be told, it was even better than Dunkin’ Donuts—gasp. Speaking of Dunkin’ Donuts, I saw a man wearing a DD shirt that said, “Friends don’t let friends drink Starbucks.” I almost hugged him. But he was a stranger and that would be weird so I let him carry on with his peaceful little life.

I ordered a Dirty Chai Latte and Darren went around calling it a dirty German the rest of the day. Can you believe him? So you know what I did?

I opened the mouth on this fat cheeky shark….

….and I pushed him in bahahahaha! Take that you bloody Englishman.

 The German coffee was very good but you won’t believe what was even better…

There’s a vintage typewriter shop

Shut up.

And there’s perfectly inspiring street art

And there’s a man store 

And the city is old, old, old with cobblestone streets and beautiful old buildings. It’s so quint and peaceful and I’ve never been happier in my life.

I’m putting my things in a box right now. Don’t tell Darren.

Click here to read about the time we finally did make it to Quebec City 🙂

Island Hopping in the Caribbean

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Last week Darren and I took off on our first real vacation. We both needed some rest, refreshment, and quiet time together so we decided the beach was just the place to be–a beach as far from our house as possible that is. So, on Sunday we flew to Puerto Rico and from there hopped onto a big fat shaky boat and set sail for the Caribbean. On Monday morning we woke up as the boat was rolling in to the lovely island of St. Thomas.

We bounced off the boat and found a taxi–and by taxi I mean a pickup truck with benches in the bed–and told the driver we wanted to go to a beautiful beach. We ended up at Magen’s Bay–perfectly beautiful with white sand, palm trees, clear water–perfect. We found a little spot to put our stuff and splashed right into the crystal clear water rolling onto shore in turquoise waves.

Darren and I are very white, white people. Darren is fair-skinned with freckles all over and I’m fair-skinned without even freckles for protection. Every single time we go to the beach we end up frying to a crisp and being miserable the rest of the time. So we decided we would outsmart the sun and tan before we left. Tan, tan we did and pretty soon we were both a nice golden brown and very pleased with ourselves. When we got to the beach at St. Thomas we didn’t even bother with sunscreen. We jumped in the water and laid out on the sand soaking up the rays–daring the sun to touch us. The sun is not to be trifled with, kids. My skin started feeling hot. Then it felt too hot. Then it felt like I was on fire. I put my sun hat on, wrapped my beach towel around my shoulders, buried my toes in the sand, did everything I could to escape the sun’s hot angry rays–but it was too late. I dared the sun and the sun won. Apparently our cute little American tans are no match for the equator and by the time we gave in and left the beach we both looked like red sun boiled lobstas. I was fairly certain we would have to be taken back to the boat on stretchers.

{Before the sun ate us}

 We found a taxi back and ended up spending the rest of the day tracking down and putting on aloe vera and vowing to never taunt the sun again.

The next day was spent at sea making our way down to Barbados. So you know what we did? We slept all day. It’s amazing how tired you can be and not even realize it. You go and go and go and keep on getting by until you finally sit–and then it just hits you how completely exhausted you have become. So we slept until we couldn’t sleep anymore and woke up to Barbados. Carefully considering and learning from our experience the day before regarding sun burns, we thought it wise to spend another day at the beach :] So another taxi we got and zipped FAST along the busy, crowded street of Bridgetown until we were dropped off at another even whiter white sand beach.

We noticed big moody clouds rolling in overhead but paid no attention to them. We found a nice spot on the sand, put lots of sunscreen on this time, and relaxed. BAM. The sky opens up and pours all her wrath and furry down on us in a torrential downpour. We snatch up our things and run for the beach house through the pouring rain. The beach house was right next to us but we were still completely soaked before we could get inside. The people laughed at us and said the sun comes after the rain–and they were right, it came back out in a few minutes’ time. The clouds still looked pretty upset though so we chucked out some money for beach chairs and a big sun umbrella to hide under–good thing to, because it rained several more times and we stayed perfectly happy under our big fat umbrella.

Next, the fat shaky boat took us to St. Lucia. We wanted to see the Pitons and more of the island so we decided to take a bus tour. The big bus zipped FAST FAST up the steep mountains, down the hills, around the sharp curves, past pedestrians and vehicles, through the rain, over the slick muddy roads as we held on tight.

We saw banana plantations, fishing villages, a botanical garden and waterfall, the Pitons of course, and the beautiful scenery of the lush green mountains towering all around us. After the wild bus ride we wobbled off onto solid ground momentarily only to climb on board a catamaran for a better view of the coastline. It rained and rained and we huddled inside under the roof trying to stay dry as the boat bounced up and down like a water roller coaster over the fat cheeky waves. It was a lovely day even if it rained and rained.

{Can you see the ocean in his sunglasses?}

 The next day we arrived in St. Kitts and since the sassy sun had made a return, we decided to spend another day on the beach.

The sun was so hot and angry, the only place we could be comfortable was in the water–so the water it was. And you know what, kids? I learned how to swim in the wild blue ocean. Can you believe I never learned how to swim? Well, I didn’t and ever since I moved to New England I’ve been wanting to learn. But the water in New England is sooooo cold I’ve never had the fortitude to do it. But, in the warm Caribbean water with nothing to do but splash around and enjoy the waves? Well, it was the perfect  opportunity so I started flailing about like a baby learning how to walk and Darren patiently showed me what to do–how to kick, how to move my arms, how to breathe, and so on. And you know what? By the end of the day I could get around without sinking. I’m a regular fish now! Okay, that’s a lie. I would probably still drown if my life depended on my swimming skills but it’s a start :]

{Now I’m a fish}

I also held a monkey–that has nothing to do with swimming but I did ;]

The time we spent in the water at St. Kitts was my very favorite part of the trip.  Having Darren teach me how to swim showed me so much about him–his patience, his gentleness, his protective nature (he held onto me tight–so careful of me when I was in water too deep trying to keep myself up). That day really helped me step back from the hustle and bustle of life and just see my husband all over again–see the man who stole my heart and who keeps on stealing it each day in spite of me. I love him.

{Who couldn’t love this kid? He really thought he could steal the boat–everyone cheered him on too}

{Perfect sunset at the end of a perfect day}

On the last day, the fat shaky boat took us to St. Maarten. St. Maarten is divided and owned by two governments–half French owned by France and half Dutch owned by the Netherlands. We wanted to see both sides so we took another horrifying taxi ride over to the French side.

We got out at the open air market and walked around taking in the beauty and culture of the island.

Darren spotted a fortress on the mountain and decided he just had to see it. He looked at me excited, wanting to know if I was ready to climb up there? I looked at him in my long black dress and flip-flops and reminded him of the 400 degree temperature outside. And he wanted to know if I was ready to climb up there? Sooooo, because I love him and because he has big brown eyes, I climbed up that mountain in my long black dress and flip-flops in the 400 degree weather. And you know what? It was worth it. Here’s the view from the top:

 

Darren is not very good at staying out of trouble. He decided to mess with a cannon…

And he got arrested…

And then he got out and took over the land and now it is run by three countries–France, the Netherlands, and the Land of Darren…

And I am his queen–overlooking the land from my fortress above…

After taking over St. Maarten, we decided to spend more time in the water so we took a ferry over to the beach and got thrown about by the wild waves.

When we were all worn out and thoroughly covered in sand, we returned to the fat shaky boat for the ride back home. This beautiful sunset bid us farewell…

Finally, we made it back to Puerto Rico and decided since we had a late flight out, to explore old San Juan a little bit; here’s what we saw:

 And that, kids, is our little trip in a very fat nutshell :]

When It All Gets to Be Too Much

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Sometimes I feel like all I ever do is gawk at a computer screen. Between working in front of a computer and writing on a computer, there are days when I literally spend hours connected to technology. Then you add in the time spent on Facebook, Twitter, reading other blogs and the news, online shopping, and all the other things I end up doing on the internet and sometimes it all just gets to be too much. It’s a funny thing though, because even though I’m starting to get overwhelmed by hyper-connectivity, every time I pull away from the computer for a few minutes, I start to miss it. I start to wonder if anyone has said anything exciting on Facebook or if I’ve had any hits on my blog. I start to wonder if one of my favorite stores has put anything on sale online or if I have any email. It’s like I’m addicted to the screen–like I don’t know what else to do with myself if I’m not clicking around on the computer.

Yesterday I really started to stop and think about how much of myself I devote to screen time–and in doing so, how much of myself I take away from the people and things that should matter so much more than an email or an online sale. How often do I whittle away precious time with my husband by pulling out the laptop instead of sitting and talking to him? It’s amazing how the two of us can be in the same room, sitting right next to each other, and still be completely disconnected by the TV and internet standing between us.

I realize I’m starting to get burnt out and just need to take a break for a while. Fortunately, next week will be the perfect opportunity to do so. Darren and I will be taking a break together and will be cut off from internet, TV, video games, phone–the works. We’ll be spending time just the two of us without all the distractions of technology and hyper-connectivity.

I can’t wait to just sit and look at him. To look at the man who stole my heart in spite of all my fighting, the man who works so hard to provide for us and to show me his great love–just to sit and look at the big brown eyes that won me over 7 years ago and still win me over every single day. How could I ever pass those eyes up for a computer screen? Sorry to be so sappy, but I’m just starting to realize what I’ve been missing out on and can’t wait to really reconnect with a person, not the internet.

“As if you could kill time without injuring eternity.” Henry David Thoreau

Busy As a Bee

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The husband and I spent this past weekend in Maine. Darren’s dad runs a bee pollination business taking boxes and boxes of honey bees to the farmers to make sure their crops are pollinated and ready to produce yummy, beautiful fruit. We go up twice a year—once in the spring and again in the fall to help Darren’s dad load and unload the bees off the truck. The bees have a pretty posh life—they get to spend the spring and summer in Maine when the weather is warm and lovely but never quite hot or humid. Then when the air gets crisp and the leaves begin to turn, the spoiled honey bees get loaded in their bee boxes back onto the truck and are whisked away to do a little tanning in Florida for the winter. You wouldn’t want them getting too cold, you know :]

With spring’s early arrival, the farmers are edgy and impatient about having the bees brought early just in case the blossoms go by quickly. You can’t blame them—if the blossoms aren’t pollinated, the crops will be lost. So as soon as the bees were pulled off the truck from Florida, the boys loaded them right onto another truck to begin deliveries. Here’s Darren driving the truck:

My father-in-law wanted to know if I wanted to ride along with them to make the deliveries—I love riding along so I jumped in the truck between him and Darren. The boys were rushing around trying to make sure they had everything they needed for the trip. My father-in-law asked me: Kari, what are we going to forget? Something important, I say. Something critical, he says. Oh well, we pile in the truck and are off. We get several miles down the road and my father-in-law says, The map. We forgot the map. Darren asks his dad if he knows where we’re going and how to get there? I hope so, says my father-in-law and we just keep on going. After lots of guessing and a couple of turnarounds, we made every delivery.

I love riding around with the boys. To avoid taking the time to stop and eat, they munch on gas station fare all day—I had a Twix, a Rice Crispy Treat, an ice cream cone, and my favorite pizza from Papa Johns—why wouldn’t I ride along for all that? :]

Here’s Darren zipping around in the Bobcat moving bee hives into an apple orchard.

When the boys were at each delivery stop, I sat in the truck and ate up a couple more pages of Walden Pond. I didn’t want to risk getting stung, you know, and it was really cold out too! I took pictures from inside the truck to avoid getting stung–see Darren in the mirror?

Here’s a cranberry bog with berries from last year taking a dip. Darren’s dad helps pollinate the cranberries used by Ocean Spray so if you’ve ever tasted Ocean Spray then maybe just maybe you’ve tasted some of his bee’s hard work.

After all the work was done, Darren and I took off for a little date in Freeport. We walked around the outdoor shops and wandered through the flagship L.L. Bean store drooling over rich people camping gear. Here’s Darren with the giant Bean Boot (he has a real pair of Bean Boots that look just like this…um, only smaller).

We are busy. The bees are busy. Life is just as busy as the busy little bees.

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Life In My Slippers

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Well kids, it’s been a busy week and I’m glad to finally have time to sit and write again. We’ve been preparing for our big annual audit at work and I feel like all I’ve done for the last two weeks is sit behind a desk filling out paper work. When it would all get to be too much, I would walk over to the big window in the office and just take in the changing spring-kissed landscape. We’ve been in a dance with the weather here lately–one day is a warm breeze and a cobalt sky, the next is rain drops and jackets. Every time I’m certain spring has finally settled in for good, I wake up to another cold day and bare branches not brave enough to put out leaves. It reminds of me of Robert Frost’s words about this time of year here in New England:

“The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day
When the sun is out and the wind is still,
You’re one month on in the middle of May.
But if you so much as dare to speak,
A cloud comes over the sunlit arch,
A wind comes off a frozen peak,
And you’re two months back in the middle of March.”
From the poem Two Tramps in Mud Time

Yesterday was the final day before the audit and everyone at work was rushing around trying to tie things up. One of the girls I work with needed a break from the bustle and went outside for a bit then came back with the cutest little stem of white bell-shaped flowers. She walked around work showing it off like a brand new baby and had everyone smell how fragrant it was for such a tiny thing. Then she got a tiny little cup filled with water and left it on her work table–I think we all enjoyed having a little piece of nature inside with us, especially on such a beautiful day when we all wanted to be outdoors. Actually, my boss wanted to be outside so much that he just took the day off and spent it out on his boat. He came in to work after 9:30 last night in shorts and flip-flops looking like a new man–it’s amazing what a little time outdoors on the water does for the soul.

The husband had to get up early this morning for the audit (I get to stay home and avoid the mess since I just work in the office, hehe). When I came down to the kitchen this morning, I was greeted by a cute little pink flower in a tiny little vase sitting on the windowsill…Husband picked it for me and put it there before he left–he’s a keeper, that one.

Now that I finally have a day out of the office, I’m faced with a mountain of laundry, dishes, grocery shopping, etc. Oh well, I would rather face the laundry than another mountain of paper work. Besides, I get to beat around the house in my slippers sipping coffee and rocking out to OneRepublic and Adele–all is well at the Andrews’ joint 8]

Well, I apologize if my ramblings about everything and nothing bore you–I’m just too fried to talk about anything important today…next week, I promise.

Enjoy your weekend and get outside if you can!

And Now I Can Fulfill My Destiny

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I love being outside. I think perhaps I should have been a vagabond instead of a normal person. Oh well. I decided to make up an excuse for going outside and bought the cutest vintage bike you’ve ever seen. No really, EVER. Here she is:

She came in the mail this morning and I haven’t regained my senses yet. Here’s the husband putting her together in the kitchen. Nothing like having an aerospace Quality Manager put things together for you–if the helicopters fly then the bike should ride (we hope).

I decided to take her out for her maiden voyage, all along telling Husband what an avid bike rider I was all through my youth and pretty much laid it out that I was pro. Probably shouldn’t have done that. I almost died. I went like a 1/4 of a mile and my knee was aching and I was panting for air. Sooo, I guess I’m a little out of shape–fail.

Here she is in her new home–our living room. She can’t live outside because I’m fairly certain one of my various pot-infused neighbors will take her for a spin and then I would have to chase them down and we would fight to the death–not ideal if you ask me. So, I vote she lives in the living room. Husband says she has to live in the basement. Silly Husband. Does he really think I’m going to let him put my sweet little bike in that dark abyss? No, I win; she lives in the living room.

I have lots of plans for my little bike–camping trips, racing the nephews, national parks, days at the beach…just as soon as I get my 26 year old knee and lungs whipped back into shape–who knew I would get so old so young? That’s what living in the city does to you, I say. Get me outside!

I bought the basket separately from Peterboro Basket Company located in Peterborough, New Hampshire. They hand-make their baskets right here in the USA using all American products…love that, love supporting local business when I can.

So, what are your plans for the warm weather days?

The Discipline of a Happy Life

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Having the life you want is a lot of hard work. If I want a clean house, well dang it, I have to clean it. If I want money then I have to get out of bed and work for it–and in working for it, I have to set aside a lot of other things that I might rather be doing. I would rather stay home and blog or go spend that hard-earned money on something I want–but off to work I must go instead. If I want to make something beautiful, I might spend the entire day on Pinterest looking at lovely things to make (and never actually making anything at all). Or I might think up one thing to make and get my rear in gear doing it. When it comes down to it, a happy life is a lot of doing and an unhappy life is a lot of “I want to’s” without the doing–without ever gaining a sense of satisfaction and achievement.

I want to be a good writer; I don’t always want to do the hard work of writing, and re-writing, and staring at a screen. But if I don’t sit down and start typing–something, anything–I’ll never be the writer I want to be. Instead I’ll live with big dreams and plans and never have anything to show for it.

I don’t want to do the laundry and wash the dishes, but I would rather do the work and have the satisfaction of living in a nice organized, clean house–not just dreaming of one while I surf the web. I don’t want to plan meals, go grocery shopping, and make dinner–but I would rather do all these things and have the satisfaction of knowing I’ve worked hard and provided a healthy, satisfying meal for my husband and I rather than tossing another lazy day frozen pizza in the oven.

I want a good marriage but I don’t always feel like being kind and patient with my husband. I don’t always feel like making sacrifices or doing the every day work that goes into building a relationship. But I would rather work at building this relationship and enjoy the peace and joy that comes from that work rather than being selfish and lazy and losing potential happiness simply because I don’t value marriage enough to fight for it and work hard at it.

On a deeper level, I want to know God and his word better. I want to be a mature, faithful Christian. But I don’t always want to do the work that allows me to know God better or to mature in my faith. I don’t want to take the time to read my Bible, I don’t want to step back from my busy life and take the time to pray–I want what I want but I don’t want to do the work.

Life is a series of choices and each choice you make today impacts the life you build for tomorrow. Even though doing one thing may sound better and easier right now, will doing it allow you to achieve your goals and build the life you want long-term or will it hinder you and waste one more day?

What do you want to do? What is keeping you from doing it? If what you want is within your power and hard work is the only thing keeping you from achieving your goals, do the work–you won’t regret it.

What Blogging Has Taught Me

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I was kind of cynical about starting a blog back in the day but I’m glad I did—here’s why:

  • Blogging makes me see my life differently: Ever since I started blogging, I’ve seen my life as a story I’m telling other people. Because I want to tell a good story I’m always on the lookout for the funny, the silly, the beautiful, the meaningful—the moments that help me connect with others and share my story in a way that interest them. Before I started blogging, taking a bike ride or spending the day at the ocean would have been simple, quickly forgotten events. Now a day at the ocean is the opportunity to share a story, to take pictures, and to come back with something to share that connects me with the people I love and people I’ve never met. Blogging helps me see the simple beauty in my life—the beauty and excitement in my own quiet story.
  • Blogging helps me work through and hash out my thoughts and feelings: Blogging has forced me to think longer and harder about all the thoughts that race through my brain. If I want to clearly communicate something to other people then I have to clarify it for myself first.
  • Blogging gives me a sense of accomplishment and perseverance: Every time something I’ve written is “liked” or commented on or even just clicked on and the little stats bar goes up and up, I get a sense of having achieved something, however small. I also get a sense of perseverance because there are days (like today) where I stare at the screen and don’t know what to write and just have to start typing anyway. Or there are days when I think I’ve written something earth shattering that will be Freshly Pressed the second I grace the world by pressing “Publish” and instead it sits there stagnate getting almost no hits and no feedback. So much for being the next great American writer and it’s back to another blank screen for another try at a better post.
  • Blogging brings me closer to people: I live across the country from my most of my family and friends and blogging helps me share my life with them from a distance. Blogging also helps me connect with new people and connect on a deeper level with people I have known for years. Blogging has even allowed me to mend and restore broken friendships.
  • Blogging helps me better communicate: I’m kind of quiet and insecure when I’m talking to people in person so writing really helps me communicate the thoughts and feelings I have a hard time getting across otherwise.
  • Blogging makes me a better writer: Blogging helps me understand who my audience is and what they are interested in. The stats provided by WordPress are an extraordinary help in knowing what topics are reaching people and what is falling flat.
  • Blogging connects me with people and stories that I never would have encountered otherwise: I read so much interesting stuff and meet so many interesting people on WordPress! There are so many great blogs to follow—I could sit in front of the computer reading all day. Sometimes I just have to shut the computer and make myself go do something else or I’ll peruse blogs all day :]

That is a list of 7 things not 10. I never promised 10 you know and I don’t know why 10 is supposed to be the perfect number anyway; I’ve always preferred 7 :]

So, why do you blog? What have you learned from putting your thought out there for the whole world to read? If you don’t blog, why not?

“We read to know that we are not alone.” C.S. Lewis

Baking and Other Bad Ideas

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Birthday presents all wrapped and ready

Darren’s birthday was this week and he requested a cake with a creamy not-too-sweet frosting on top. To achieve said frosting I thought I would just utilize my mad bad cooking skills and bake the man a cake all by my onesie–bahaha–bad, dumb idea, Kari Ann.

It started like this: I bought two boxes of chocolate cake mix and planned on making two 9″ round cakes to stack one on top of the other–no problem. I read the instructions carefully and even called Darren to verify our altitude to make sure I didn’t need to use the higher altitude instructions. The instructions said to divide one box of cake mix between two 9″ pans so that is exactly what I did–but the pans didn’t look full enough to me. So I, even though I have apparently never baked a cake before, decided to take the instructions into my own hands and poured the whole box of batter into one pan and mixed the second box for a second pan–perfect.

Both pans were filled almost to the top and I popped them in the oven with the timer set for 30 minutes then left the room. Soon, I could smell the cake cooking and it smelled so yummy and I started thinking about Facebook statuses like, “Just made the best cake ever–sooooo good!” Then I started smelling smoke.

I went to the kitchen to check on my perfect cakes and smoke was billowing from the back of the oven. You know how when some people freak out they spring into action and fix the problem on a rush of adrenalin? Ya, I’m not one of those people. I’m one of those people who completely freeze and lose all ability to think or function. So, when smoke is billowing out of the oven and my cakes are most likely on fire I stand frozen in the kitchen with my hands over my mouth trying to think. of. something.

I finally found my legs and opened the kitchen window to let the smoke out before the fire alarm starting blasting and opened the oven to find that my two cakes were both bubbling over and pouring a lava-like flow of cake batter all over the interior of the oven. There was so much cake batter on the bottom of the oven that it looked like I was cooking four cakes–two in pans and two on the oven floor. The cakes were bubbling over so badly I didn’t even know how to get them out of the oven. I finally maneuvered some baking sheets under the cakes and pulled them out one at a time. The batter on the oven floor was burning into blackened charcoal and filling the house with smoke so I had to get it all cleaned out before I could even think of putting the cakes back in. I scrubbed and scrubbed until it was all cleaned up and then emptied some of the extra batter from each of the pans before putting them back in to finish cooking. I had to keep opening the oven like I was burping it to let all the smoke out that kept building up. Once the cakes were finally done, I trimmed all the excess off and laid them face-down so you couldn’t tell how incredibly ugly they were then I piled them high with that special frosting that started this whole adventure. In the end, the cake didn’t look too bad and it tasted fine (I was sure it would taste like smoke).

When Darren finally got home from work we had a nice steak dinner together, opened presents, and enjoyed the cake of doom. Next year when Darren asks for a special cake, I going to march right down to the bakery and buy him one. I hate cooking. I hate baking. Most of all, I hate the smell of burnt cake batter.

The final result

A Winter Weekend in Maine

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Welcome to Maine!

Darren and I spent the weekend in Maine so D could begin repainting his dad’s plane. We usually arrive in Maine at night so the first thing I do when I get out of the car is look up–up at the clear night sky filled with stars bright and brilliant without the dulling reflection of city lights. I love getting out of town and spending a few days in the mountains and the country away from the busy world. Darren’s parents don’t have internet or TV and our cell phones barely have any reception so we have no choice but to sit back and take a few days away from all the technology and busyness we are accustomed to. I usually spend my time in Maine reading, writing hand-written letters, and spending quiet time with Darren’s family.

Darren the martian painting one of the airplane wings

While Darren worked away, I went down the road to his grandma’s house and visited for a bit.

Take your wet boots off at the door please!

As soon I was in the door and out of my wet boots, Grammie opened up the wood stove and had the fire roaring. I love the way Grammie keep wood in the Raido Flyer. She does it because it’s easier to bring more wood in at once (and an 80 something girl still hauling her own wood can do it however she likes) but I think it’s kind of charming in the wagon by the fire. After chatting and chocolate chip cookies, I headed back to the house.

At home, my mom-in-law built a cozy fire too. We sat by the fire and watched the big fat fluffy snow flakes drift as big as cotton balls from the sky.

We sat and talked until the sun went down and the boys came in and then it was time for dinner. My mom-in-law wanted to get sandwiches for dinner so the two of us bundled up and headed out to the old standard station wagon. My mom-in law suggested I bring a blanket because the car would be “wicked cold” and it was! I laid the blanket out in the seat and wrapped it around my legs and we were off. New Englanders like to test the road conditions by slamming on the breaks and seeing if the car slides–this scares non New Englanders like me out of their minds. Since it had been snowing all day and the road was already covered in packed snow, my mom-in-law decided to perform said road test. With the car pointed down a steep hill she started driving then pulled the stick into some foreign gear before slamming on the breaks–we slid but didn’t die so on we went down the slick mountain road into town. We made it to the “Mallard Mart”–a gas station/sandwich shop and picked up our Italians and whoopie pies then we were off again into the snowy night.

I wondered around the farm and took a few pictures of the place covered over in snow.

My father-in-law built this barn; he built the house too.

The fat cheeky cows grazing.

I love this little bird house in the field.

Here’s the same bird house in the fall.

On the way home, this pulled in next to us at the gas station

Snowmobile crossing–a legit road sign in Maine