Camping for the Uninformed

Seth was relieved to complete the near vertical climb through deserted stretches of trails overlooking Las Vegas.  Seth cleaned his dusty spectacles and gazed at blinking lights below.

Ha!  And Dave said I couldn’t do it!  Seth smiled as he thought of his brother’s derision as he loaned his camp gear to novice camper Seth.  But his gloat was fleeting as he realized the sun was almost behind distant mountains, and he had yet to set up camp.  The full moon was moving behind heavy clouds and it would soon be completely dark.

Frantically Seth tried to find a suitable patch of ground that wasn’t rock hard.  He tumbled down into a trench where the softer ground made hammering spikes easier.  The tent was up in minutes with the Coleman lantern blazing.   Ha! He said again, as he dropped trousers to urinate into the dry ground. Giggling as the yellow stream flowed, he mused how indecent this had been in the streets of Las Vegas, maybe. 

As he dozed off warm and cozy within Dave's tent, he heard the thunder in the mountains and enjoyed the sound of rain falling upon the tent. 

When the ground rumbled and shook, Seth leaped outside the tent just in time to see the wall of water and mud roaring toward him along the gully.  His last thoughts were, ‘Dave is gonna be really pissed about the tent….’

 

gully washer in action

This is a 2013 Wed. words from the early days. It is a writing challenge for bloggers to use the above underlined words to be creative. I wrote this after going on a bad camping experience, channeling the emotions into this blog. The underlined words come from that weeks challenge.

Please check out Wednesday Words and Prompts at drifting slowly

We have gone camping many times over the years. The only mistake we made  was my husband pitching the tent on red ant hill. Not a good thing. 

Weddings: the disasters

  

 Weddings--we have all have been there.

 

 .

Generally, at one time or another everyone manages to attend one or more weddings.  Pretty generic most of the time, but sometimes amazing things happen at weddings.  Not just the expensive wedding gown, flowers, etc. But surprising and memorable things.

At my own wedding, my-almost-husband fainted, dropped down like a sack of feed.  Down.  Out cold.  He was okay, we ended up married, so all was well.  However, my small town of 427 had years of stories like that. Our wedding, now 50 years past, is still remembered.

 

Then there are the melting cakes.  

I personally have been at three family weddings where the heat and humidity caused the cakes to droop with icing cascading down the layers. 

My sister’s cake—the layers nearly slid off each other, onto the table. It was June in Illinois, humid as a river running through the town.

  

My sis-in-law’s wedding in Chicago, mid-July, the icing was sagging and turning into a puddle.  

Same thing with another sis-in-law--pure sugar water fall. 

Some weddings are sunny mornings with the tent all set up, tables with tablecloths, with crowning wedding cake in the center of dance floor. 

  

Then a storm whips up, winds sweep, and all disappear into the manicured grass. Awesome. Have been in some storm reception in that.

 

But, the best part is the wedding cake.  I love eating wedding cake.  Skip the chicken and broccoli, let’s move on to the wedding cake.

Those weddings are the best—when something goes wrong and people have to problem solve.   

 

 

Those are the great.

 

Of course, the cake would be interesting, esp. when it is falling to the ground. I've been there.Saw it all. 

 

It didn't go well. 

 

Anyone out there have such a memorable wedding?

 

 

Okay. Play date. Let the games begin.

 

What does eating a sandwich tell about you?

 

Anxiety vibrated in the air as Samuel’s mother knocked on a red door.  The door was opened by an equally anxious, smiling nervously mother.   Ah.  So this is the ‘play-date’.  Interesting…

Two more mothers called out, and Samuel was dragged into the tv room where three other bewildered children sat.  Legos and action figures lay scattered around them.  An offering of some sort, obviously.

“Now, let’s have lunch!”  Someone announced, and the four children were plopped down at a child’s table in their colorful chairs.  IKEA…

Plates of sandwiches and potato chips were slid in front of each, and juice boxes (straws inserted) were set down.

Silence, long and drawn out, echoed as each child sized the other up for reference.    

So much can be learned by the way one holds a juice box, how one sucks on the deadly straw.  How the sandwich is held speaks a world of information.  Blue iced cupcakes are not meant for just eating.

By lunch’s end, it was clear:  Samuel was the Alpha, Charlie the Omega.  Clarisse—sassy deceptive girl—was a she-devil.  Buddy was easily manipulated.  The game is afoot, friends.

And then....

When the front door closed amid tears and apologies after the play-date concluded, much had happened.  The leather sofa had been stabbed to death with the plastic juice box straws.  The blood red juice stained the carpet in big drops.  The dog cowered beneath the sofa, shivering in his blue icing stripes.

 

 

 

This is from 2012 from Samuel Chronicles.  

 

And then....then

Life is a chain of events, I know that is true.  These happenings link up to form the past.  That is how it works, and wonderfully so.

What I desire for a while is a period of time in which the weeks are filled with simple day-to-day activities:  laundry, going to a movie, reading, and such. 

These past few years have been labeled “…And Then…” years.

In Illinois, my mother started to decline, “…And Then…” started.  Each phone call and each visit always led to something more.  When Mom died in April 2011, I thought life would resume the laundry and movie routine.  But, it didn’t.

All those “…and then…” events occurred:  A broken ankle.  A fall/sprawl (broken ankle betrayed me).  Trips to far-off places.  Christmas and birthdays.  Serious illness and surgery (for my husband’s mother).  Subsequent care following. 

Then...my daughter fell, broke bones in her foot, had surgery, was ‘laid up’ for two months.  Then…my other daughter had a baby boy!...And then we couldn't see this baby boy for almost a year.

More trips to far-off places.  And then…

Maybe I am whining about life in general.  Maybe I am like my wee grandson who cries when he needs something, and it is up to his parents to figure out what that is. They could just call me and I can take over.

If I could push a “pause” button, I would. Should I?  Would you?  

 

Blow out the candle already

 

I need to eat something decadent, and it should be unique.  in fact, I absolutely deserve something beyond decadent. I think these could handle this assignment. But, how about these?

Enough of the sugar, flour, eggs, and oil.  Brownies will meet the ticket.

· 1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter

· 2 1/4 cups sugar

· 4 large eggs

· 1 1/4 cups Triple Cocoa Blend or Dutch-process cocoa

· 1 teaspoon salt

· 1 teaspoon baking powder

· 1 teaspoon espresso powder

· 1 tablespoon vanilla extract

· 1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

· 2 cups chocolate chips

INSTRUCTIONS

1. Preheat the oven to 350°F. Lightly grease a 9" x 13" pan. Line with parchment paper, optional.

2. In a saucepan, melt the butter over medium heat. Stir in the sugar and cook until mixture is hot (about 110°F to 120°F), but not bubbling.

3. In a large mixing bowl, whisk eggs, cocoa, salt, baking powder, espresso powder, and vanilla until smooth. Add the hot butter/sugar mixture and stir until smooth. Add the flour and stir until smooth.

4. Let the batter cool in the bowl for 20 minutes then stir in the chips. Spread batter into prepared pan.

5. Bake for about 30 minutes, until the brownie edges are set and a cake tester inserted into the center comes out with just a few moist crumbs clinging to it. Remove them from oven and cool completely on a rack before cutting. 

Or, if you are like my 15 year old, use a spoon while the brownies are still on the warm side. Don't be ashamed. You deserve it.

Have a new cast on!  can one finger type, but it is exhausting.

This cake is just fine--so far.

Back in May, I wrote a post, “I do! I do!” 
Advice to Brides! 

My niece had gotten married at a beach wedding.  It was a lovely wedding, and the families were happy. 

So much planning had gone into the wedding, as does in most weddings.  So many worries were about the weather, since it had been raining all week along that beach.  But the day of the wedding was sunny and clear. 

Now we are preparing to go to a second-marriage wedding for the bride’s mother, who is my sister-in-law.  When I asked her about the wedding plans that always include flowers, cake, food, and beverages, her reply was profound.  “This time, I am working on the marriage, not on the wedding.”

I bet they worked on their marriage!

What an insightful answer!

I remember her first wedding and all the planning that went into it.  Months of planning, shopping, trying on wedding dresses was part of the wedding process.  Every detail was addressed, except the weather.  It was a miserable humid hot day.  The reception by the home pool had seemed a good idea, but few people danced and most huddled in the shade until the sun was casting shadows. 

The wedding cake was sitting on the patio under shade during the church ceremony (during which the flower girl fainted from the heat). 

Someone else's wedding

When the bride’s parents returned home, the heavy cake sides were slipping down off the cake.  Only quick thinking by a chef guest saved the cake; he repaired the cake inside in the dining room, where the A/C was cranked to super-high. 

Okay, it wasn't this bad.

As I think about this second wedding, I don’t think the weather will matter one little bit.  Rain buckets?  Cold winds?  No problem.   

This couple has spent all the past year working on the marriage.  They won’t mind a little weather one bit.