A Splash of Orange

For many years now, my most consistent form of exercise has been walking our gravel road. With its Mt. Everest hills and ever-changing scenery, I never get bored. The wildflowers in the ditches change each year. Once in a while, a goldfinch or cardinal will show off their colors. And sometimes, Percy gets to chase a deer.

Yellow. Yellow. Yellow.

The other day I was walking along, admiring waves and waves of yellow flowers (the technical name), and I noticed a small splash of orange. I stopped my trek to admire this small and almost obscure spray of flora. I even stepped into the ditch to inspect. I was enamored. I might still be there if I hadn't been a bit concerned about snakes hiding in the long weeds.

This experience took about two minutes of my day. And it preoccupied the rest of my walk. How often do I ever take a minute to enjoy something? How often do any of us do this?

When the kids were little I would walk with them on this same gravel road. And I'd become impatient with the all of the stopping to collect rocks and pick pull-apart grass. I had stuff to do! I can't remember what. But apparently it was something important. Probably laundry. I'd do anything to go back to that time and let them take as long as they wanted. Skip the laundry.

We do everything so fast in our lives. We eat fast. We have sex fast. (Did I say that?) We DVR so we can get through our shows more quickly. Sometimes, and I realize this is a sin, I skim books. Now that is a shame.

We're too busy to savor.

I attended the funeral of a best friend's grandmother today. My heart flipped when I had heard she died. She was a very young 96, living in her house up until a few weeks ago. Violet was the sweet lady who always, always had time for you. Like all good grandmas, she fed us well and created amazing concoctions like Tang with 7-Up. But the best part of visiting her was how she always listened and laughed – always having time for you. She had the loveliest of laughs that will be forever imprinted in my heart. There was a reason her funeral was packed full of people.

Between the recent loss of a childhood icon and my brush with pretty orange flowers, I've decided I need to make some changes. Instead of calling Alex only to remind her to take her allergy meds, I'm gonna let her educate me on something she's passionate about, like being the laxest vegan on the universe. And rather than focusing on how Cole still can't flush a toilet, I'm gonna share his enthusiasm over a story about that one NBA player that did something cool that one time. And maybe, just maybe, I'll make them some Tang and 7-Up. The perfect splash of orange.

Can you see the prettiness between the weeds?

Our Colorado Adventure, Part IV

It was our last full day in Colorado. After becoming recharged by nature and awestruck by the mountains, we opted for some good old-fashioned commercialism. We spent the day on the 16th Street Mall in Denver – an outdoor conglomeration of your standard franchise stores peppered with organic eateries and unique breweries. And it had a piano in the middle of the street.

We started off by catching a healthy and delicious lunch at the Modern Market Farm Fresh Eatery. There would be no McDonald's clogging our arteries that day! Then the boys were lured into an athletic store. Doug and I decided to take Alex to an H&M a few blocks away. As we strolled down the brick street, Doug grabbed a hold of us and pointed to something just ahead of us. Something horrifying. A man wearing a giant, yellow python around his neck. A live one. A real one. It was scariest moment of the vacation. Ziplining was nothing compared to the blood that rushed from my face as I imagined the snake getting loose and wrapping itself around one of us. I closed my eyes and waited for crazy man and snake to drift away. Apparently, Cole's shoe fetish kicked in at just the right time. If he would've seen it, the six foot kid would've crawled up his daddy's back.

Before we reached the H&M, we came across an outdoor Mexican restaurant with several TVs tuned into the World Cup. Croatia versus England. One of the final matches. There were lots of soccer fans, and, most importantly, there was beer. As we bonded with our new soccer friends, all peeled to the intense game, I texted the boys to come quick. "We found a great place to watch soccer." The boys, after all, are all about soccer, playing the sport all year around high school and club. They would certainly be excited to sit down and watch the World Cup. So, they came. And being the soccer aficionados they are, they stayed for about two minutes before setting off to find a Game Stop.

After we toasted Croatia for their stunning win, Doug urged us to get on with our shopping. (I think it was Doug, anyway.) And soon we found H&M. I couldn't help but feel proud as Alex opted for blazers and dress pants to jumpstart her career wardrobe. The days of Hot Topic seem to finally be over! Adulting is setting in. Of course, we did swing by a Sally's to pick up blue hair dye. I guess she does have one year left of college to be cool.

It's not all healthy in Denver.

After her splurge, we met the boys at a Hard Rock so they could grab a snack since it had probably been two hours since they ate that healthy crap. As I was thinking about Alex and her smart shopping choices, Cole also gave me reason to be proud. While his buddy, Michael, has purchased a fancy new pair of athletic slides for the low price of $50, Cole bragged how he had refrained from getting shoes or an NBA jersey that he had really wanted. But I did notice a small Gamestop bag in his possession.

"So, did you get anything today?" I said.

"Just a game," he said. "Lego Star Wars III."

I guess the cost of video games doesn't count. It'll be a while until Cole starts adulting.

As we headed back to the condo, I noticed we had all fallen into that cone of silence that happens when everyone has spent lots of time together. I managed to capture a video with some stellar singing. But I could tell everyone was getting just a little tired. The vacation was on the downhill side. But we'd have one more really cool experience. And it was a culinary splurge.

Next post: Find out if we ordered that cow tongue with the bone marrow.

Fear, Faith and Fresh Skunk

Despite the cranky storm signals blasting our phones, the boys and I lingered a bit long at a McDonald’s in Council Bluffs the other night. (No french fry was wasted.) Besides, the weather seemed fine...there. Even after we left, the sky was blue. It had been a fine day and my stomach was full, rolling from the fast food frenzy.

Then, as we edged closer to home, the memory of the storm signals haunted as ominous, black clouds swirled over the sky. I even closed down Facebook to watch the weather.

As we drove deeper into scary, I did a sign of the cross and a hasty, heartfelt prayer. Once we hit Portsmouth, I suggested to my hubby we take cover at Charlene's. Do you even know where Charlene lives? Not exactly, but...Hubby shook his head and communicated his intent to avoid hail bullets on the car.

Doug's pedal floored the metal and we clipped, clipped, clipped as lightening approached us. Raindrops didn't just patter, they pounced the windshield. I felt my heartbeat speed up. I continued my conversation with God, explaining how I didn't really care about hail hitting the stupid car. I just didn’t want us to get swept away in the storm. Please God, I said, just get us home.

I had just begun to consider how impressed I was by my son, who was quietly sitting in the backseat not saying a word. Perhaps he had grown out of his fraidy-cattedness! That’s just about when I heard, “Whoa! It's storming! I've been napping!” Fear took hold–of two of us anyway.

As we turned on to the last leg of our road, I saw two bright lights from Westphalia in the distance. Whenever I see two bright lights together, I'm always overcome by a sense of calm. Because it's my sign. They are the eyes of my guardian angel. We were going to be fine.

So on the last stretch of the trip, as Doug raced full-speed ahead, we hit a bump. (I thought I had seen something on the road.) Then after a few seconds, it was sufficiently clear. We had hit a skunk. The car wreaked. And I had gone from reveling in my faith, thankful for our safety, to shallow disgust. My new car smell had been eradicated in mere seconds. Then I slapped my cheek. Hadn’t I just been telling God how I didn’t care about the car? I only wanted us to be safe! I swear I heard God laughing at me. Then I laughed at myself. Such a human.

Anyway, skunk still wafts a bit in the car. But I can handle the smell. My family is safe.