I knew this day was coming. I just didn't know when or what would be the reason.
As of this post, I will no longer be blogging at "These Boots Were Made for Walkin'".
As you know, I love my writing hobby. I adore it. And don't worry, I'm not giving it up. I'm actually expanding it. I'm taking it to the next level.
I'm working at writing a book. Oh jeez, I've said it and now I HAVE to do it! Well, I'm already waist-deep in this particular project and there's no looking back now.
But here's the thing, I still love to blog. I love the carefree attitude I can have with it. I love the feeling of accomplishment it brings to my life. So I've created a new blog. One that more accurately fulfills my needs as a blogger and hopeful author.
When I started this blog I meant for it to be a fun project, one that I'd use to share my adventures, travels, and fun. In all honesty, I'm too busy for traveling and most of my adventures are, as you are well aware of, with my Mountain Man hiking on some mountain or searching for antlers.
This blog isn't a fresh start, it's the next step. A step that I'm hoping, praying, and crossing my fingers, that leads to a published, successful book. But at this point, I'd settle with published. I'd even be happy with just 'book'.
I want to thank you all, my faithful and spontaneous followers, who have read, smiled, laughed, and cheered me on since my first blog post. This has been a wonderful, humbling experience. Your comments, Facebook likes, and support have meant so much to me. I remember well the night I sat down to put together this blog, the nerves and excitement I felt, the anxious thrill of hitting "Publish" and seeing my words out there for everyone to see. I've opened my life up to you and I thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for making me feel so safe and welcome. It has meant the world to me. And I hope you continue to follow me in the next leg of this journey.
You can continue reading at my new blog;
writingequalshappiness.wordpress.com
Thank you all. All of my love.
Erica. Always the cowboy boot wearin' gal.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Ready to Say Goodbye to Summer
Before you scream 'Blasphemy!' and never speak to me again, hear me out. I have my reasons.
As you should know by now, my man has been gone since mid-May. Reason #1 for wanting summer to be over. He returns soon, but nearly at the end of the summer.
And along with Reason #1...Reason #2 is simply that I am tired of killing spiders, moths, and all other sorts of creepy, crawly, send me flying out of the room bugs. I know he gets a kick out of my lively bug-slaying stories, but I'm seriously tired of avoiding certain corners, windows, doors, or rooms because of the itsy-bitsy monsters that plague me. I'm one tough cookie, but when it comes to anything spider-like, moth-like, or just plain creepy-crawly-like, I'm an up-on-my-tip-toes, balancing-on-the-counter-top, wielding a shoe or a broom, kind of gal. However, give me a vacuum cleaner and I can suck those blood-suckers up, just give me a minute to shriek and squirm.
But back to my main point.
I'm more of a mild-weather gal. I don't like extreme cold and I don't like extreme heat. I prefer my temps to stay within 70 and 80 degrees. None of these triple digit days. No, thank you.
And, I do prefer fall to all other seasons. While I do enjoy summer, once August hits I start pining away for pretty colored leaves, a warm sweater to hug my shoulders and a new pair of boots to walk around in the crisp autumn air. I've wrote about how much I love fall, before. Nothing's changed.
So bring on football, crunchy leaves, pumpkins, wearing socks, and most importantly, bring my man home! Summer, I'll greet you with much more love next year, but see ya later!
I'm sure there are a gazillion of you out there that strongly disagree with me. Well keep your flip flops on, we still have weeks of warm summer-like weather, no doubt.
And speaking of summer, mine sure was a busy one. Which explains the cobwebs I had to dust off of my blog. Figure of speech. There are no cobwebs in internet space.
I worked a lot at my new job, which I am loving. And I worked out--in the gym--a lot, too. With Craig gone, I spent most of my days at work and then still at work but working out. I've been a running, cycling, stair-climbing, weight-lifting, all around gym rat. And I've loved that too. I feel pretty great too. I look a little different as well. Slimmer, fitter, and happier. I don't have any before/after pics to prove it so you'll just have to take my word for it. And after a summer of sweating it out in the gym, here's my advice: make a goal and stick to it. There were many days I felt that I wasn't getting anywhere. But then I'd catch myself lifting more weight, running farther or faster, feeling stronger, and then all of a sudden, looking fitter. And another big part was my diet. You can't reach a fitness goal without equal parts hard work and a good diet. I adapted a new motto along the way, too: The only bad workout is the one that didn't happen.
I also got a little crafty. Painting, staining, gluing, modge-podging, and enjoying it! The next time I do a project, I will blog about it. I truly admire those of you that do these DIY projects all the time. I did about five in one weekend and they wore me out!
And of course, I was able to see my Mountain Man again, making it two whole weekends together since he left in May. My countdown is coming to an end as we enter single-digit days until he is home. And he and I couldn't be happier.
I hope you all had a fabulous summer and continue to enjoy the warm weather and end of summer fun. I'll be silently, or not so silently, cheering the upcoming change in seasons.
Goodbye summer and helllooooo fall!
As you should know by now, my man has been gone since mid-May. Reason #1 for wanting summer to be over. He returns soon, but nearly at the end of the summer.
And along with Reason #1...Reason #2 is simply that I am tired of killing spiders, moths, and all other sorts of creepy, crawly, send me flying out of the room bugs. I know he gets a kick out of my lively bug-slaying stories, but I'm seriously tired of avoiding certain corners, windows, doors, or rooms because of the itsy-bitsy monsters that plague me. I'm one tough cookie, but when it comes to anything spider-like, moth-like, or just plain creepy-crawly-like, I'm an up-on-my-tip-toes, balancing-on-the-counter-top, wielding a shoe or a broom, kind of gal. However, give me a vacuum cleaner and I can suck those blood-suckers up, just give me a minute to shriek and squirm.
But back to my main point.
I'm more of a mild-weather gal. I don't like extreme cold and I don't like extreme heat. I prefer my temps to stay within 70 and 80 degrees. None of these triple digit days. No, thank you.
And, I do prefer fall to all other seasons. While I do enjoy summer, once August hits I start pining away for pretty colored leaves, a warm sweater to hug my shoulders and a new pair of boots to walk around in the crisp autumn air. I've wrote about how much I love fall, before. Nothing's changed.
So bring on football, crunchy leaves, pumpkins, wearing socks, and most importantly, bring my man home! Summer, I'll greet you with much more love next year, but see ya later!
I'm sure there are a gazillion of you out there that strongly disagree with me. Well keep your flip flops on, we still have weeks of warm summer-like weather, no doubt.
And speaking of summer, mine sure was a busy one. Which explains the cobwebs I had to dust off of my blog. Figure of speech. There are no cobwebs in internet space.
I worked a lot at my new job, which I am loving. And I worked out--in the gym--a lot, too. With Craig gone, I spent most of my days at work and then still at work but working out. I've been a running, cycling, stair-climbing, weight-lifting, all around gym rat. And I've loved that too. I feel pretty great too. I look a little different as well. Slimmer, fitter, and happier. I don't have any before/after pics to prove it so you'll just have to take my word for it. And after a summer of sweating it out in the gym, here's my advice: make a goal and stick to it. There were many days I felt that I wasn't getting anywhere. But then I'd catch myself lifting more weight, running farther or faster, feeling stronger, and then all of a sudden, looking fitter. And another big part was my diet. You can't reach a fitness goal without equal parts hard work and a good diet. I adapted a new motto along the way, too: The only bad workout is the one that didn't happen.
I also got a little crafty. Painting, staining, gluing, modge-podging, and enjoying it! The next time I do a project, I will blog about it. I truly admire those of you that do these DIY projects all the time. I did about five in one weekend and they wore me out!
And of course, I was able to see my Mountain Man again, making it two whole weekends together since he left in May. My countdown is coming to an end as we enter single-digit days until he is home. And he and I couldn't be happier.
I hope you all had a fabulous summer and continue to enjoy the warm weather and end of summer fun. I'll be silently, or not so silently, cheering the upcoming change in seasons.
Goodbye summer and helllooooo fall!
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Hi Friends. Remember me?
You must hate me.
I promised you more blog posts and here I am, back again after WEEKS of nothing. Nada. Zip. ZERO.
But hate me or love me, here I am.
I DO love to write. I love to type, which is technically what I'm doing. Writing actually gives me a hand cramp. I've always been one of those writers that hold my pen extremely tight, like I'm afraid the pen will wiggle out of my clenched fingertips and run away. I also tend to focus too much on my handwriting. Thank goodness for technology. Or maybe I'm just a fair-weather writer and would have thrown in my feather quill if I had to write my tales by candlelight, ink smudges covering my hands, face, clothes, furniture. You get the idea.
So what have I been up to? Let's see...a half marathon, a hip injury, lots of work, lots of family time, and a two-day getaway to see my man in beautiful Salmon, Idaho.
Before you pat me on the back for the half marathon, let me first say that I did not properly train for this run and I severely suffered the consequences. I did finish the run and am proud of myself, and the rest of my family, for signing up, but I do NOT recommend running anything you are not prepared for. I also did not listen to my body and stop when I should have. I pushed myself through the pain, which in this case was not the good kind of pain, and thus came my hip injury. Luckily, I have healed quickly and am looking forward to running again soon, but I was so disappointed when only three miles in, my left hip was in so much pain that the next TEN miles were not as I had planned. AKA...PAINFUL!
A BIG thanks to Jenna, my very good friend and soon to be sister-in-law for being my running partner, walking partner, and encouragement to carry on. I owe you a big one sister for sticking out a rough, but sometimes fun, 13 miles! How about another half marathon (that we both properly train for) in the future?
I promised you more blog posts and here I am, back again after WEEKS of nothing. Nada. Zip. ZERO.
But hate me or love me, here I am.
I DO love to write. I love to type, which is technically what I'm doing. Writing actually gives me a hand cramp. I've always been one of those writers that hold my pen extremely tight, like I'm afraid the pen will wiggle out of my clenched fingertips and run away. I also tend to focus too much on my handwriting. Thank goodness for technology. Or maybe I'm just a fair-weather writer and would have thrown in my feather quill if I had to write my tales by candlelight, ink smudges covering my hands, face, clothes, furniture. You get the idea.
So what have I been up to? Let's see...a half marathon, a hip injury, lots of work, lots of family time, and a two-day getaway to see my man in beautiful Salmon, Idaho.
Before you pat me on the back for the half marathon, let me first say that I did not properly train for this run and I severely suffered the consequences. I did finish the run and am proud of myself, and the rest of my family, for signing up, but I do NOT recommend running anything you are not prepared for. I also did not listen to my body and stop when I should have. I pushed myself through the pain, which in this case was not the good kind of pain, and thus came my hip injury. Luckily, I have healed quickly and am looking forward to running again soon, but I was so disappointed when only three miles in, my left hip was in so much pain that the next TEN miles were not as I had planned. AKA...PAINFUL!
A BIG thanks to Jenna, my very good friend and soon to be sister-in-law for being my running partner, walking partner, and encouragement to carry on. I owe you a big one sister for sticking out a rough, but sometimes fun, 13 miles! How about another half marathon (that we both properly train for) in the future?
Jenna and I, pre half marathon. So cold and so unaware of what we were in for!
Still alive, still standing--well, barely--and still smiling! Maybe it's because of the medal around my neck.
They gave medals to everyone that finished. But who cares?
On our first hike in Salmon. It was SO beautiful there.
So that's basically the pep talk I give myself everyday. And every day is closer to the day he comes home.
Halle-freakin-lujah.
They gave medals to everyone that finished. But who cares?
So the half marathon was a great experience overall, even though it was quite painful at times, and I got to have a weekend away with my family and see more family that I had not seen in quite some time.
The following week, Craig got his two days off and with hardly any thought as to what I was throwing into my bag, I was on my way to meet him in Salmon, Idaho. If you look at a map, Moscow and Salmon look relatively close. But upon further inspection, you might notice a national forest in between them, thus making the quickest route a six and a half-seven hour drive. I went through Missoula to get there. Which wasn't at all bad because I was able to stop and say hello to my good friend, Keeley, who lives there.
Shortly after saying hello, giving her a hug, and scarfing some fried pickles and hot wings...classy choice before reuniting with my boyfriend, I was back in my car and speeding down the road. Lucky for me, the speed limit for most of the way was 75.
Two hours later, my hands tired from gripping the steering wheel, my giddy-ness nearly getting the best of me, I was in Salmon. And he was there waiting for me. I didn't even care that he was dirty and wearing my less-than favorite item of clothing, his sleeveless hooded sweatshirt. Which, in all honesty, is really starting to grow on me. To me, he was the sun in the sky, the air in my lungs. I was SO happy to see him.
We had a great time in Salmon. We went hiking, sat by the river during a very warm and sunny day, wandered through downtown, and went shooting, which was in preparation for my first hunt in Idaho, with him. Won't that be an interesting blog post!
On our first hike in Salmon. It was SO beautiful there.
After two days, it was time to say goodbye. It was horrible. I, of course, bawled my eyes out and he did his best to hold me together. And maybe hold it together himself. On the drive home, it rained. How fitting. I was not a happy traveler. Especially when I drank way too much water and coffee and had a heck of a time finding a bathroom while going over the pass. Even though I hated leaving him, I was definitely happy to finally get home after a very long seven hour trip back. And the next day, I woke up and realized that we were over a 1/4 of the way done. And now, as I write this, we are nearing the half-way point. Which just so happens to be on the 4th of July. And before I know it, he'll be home.
I've learned many things so far this summer, one of them being that relationships grow even when you are far apart and unable to communicate on a regular basis. I love him more and more everyday and I know that his love for me continues to grow as well. I also have a new appreciation for our 'normal' lives, which include seeing him on a regular basis and doing the regular, every-day things together. When you're in love and excited about your future, it's easy to get wrapped up in all of your plans. This time apart has taught me to value what we have now, not what we don't have yet or what is yet to happen. I've learned to take a step back and value every moment we're given, even if for now it's merely a quick five minute phone call or a text at 5am. I love those gifts and they keep me going, no matter if they are hours, days, or weeks in-between. Although, thank goodness I haven't had to go weeks without hearing from him so far.
Today I have 51 days to go. I remember when it was 80 or 70 something and I kept telling myself it would fly by but secretly I was wondering how in the world am I going to get through this? When you look at a mountain from the bottom, staring straight up, it does look frighteningly overwhelming. But when you take a step back, it doesn't look so bad. And when you start to climb, eventually, you get to the top.
So that's basically the pep talk I give myself everyday. And every day is closer to the day he comes home.
Halle-freakin-lujah.
Wednesday, May 23, 2012
Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. And other rules I TRY to live by.
Breakfast. If eaten properly it stops me from inhaling a cheeseburger and fries on my lunch break out of pure hunger induced rage and insanity.
Early to bed, early to rise. If I do this, I actually get up when my alarm clock goes off, not 45 minutes later.
Drink plenty of water. Makes me pee a lot. A LOT. But also keeps me hydrated when I'm dripping sweat during my workout. Keeps my skin soft, aids digestion, and has plenty of other positive qualities about it.
Don't eat the cookie! Or even nibble on a Hershey's chocolate kiss. One little bite could induce a chocoholic like myself into a dessert binge that would absolutely ruin that hour I just spent kicking my own butt in the gym.
I know these things. So why are these the ones I struggle with the most in my effort to eat clean, workout daily, have a regular sleep pattern, and just say no to my only and ultimate "drug" of choice: chocolate. Chocolate isn't really a drug, but some of us may beg to differ.
Step number one, I am aware these are the areas I need to work on.
Step number two, works on these issues so that they become non-issues.
Easy as pie. Or maybe something other than pie. Pie is sweet, sweet like chocolate. Chocolate. CHOCOLATE.
Easy as broccoli. I just so happen to love broccoli, but I don't often binge on broccoli so I'm not worried.
The breakfast thing I have been working on and doing well at. And my old stand-by has been knocked out of the running when it comes to what fuels me in the morning. Yes, cereal is no longer my breakfast staple. In fact, it has been banned from my cupboard. Why? Because it never fills me up! It has let me down so many times that I should have broken up with cereal years ago. And the cereal I like, which is deemed "healthy" by advertising claims, is full of sugar. No wonder it tastes so good.
So what do I eat while watching the morning news and chugging coffee? I've turned to Greek yogurt with berries and almonds, two hard boiled eggs and a piece of fruit. This much food in the morning used to be against my code of conduct, but I've finally come to my senses. Breakfast IS the most important meal for a reason. When I eat a filling and healthy breakfast I have more energy and make better decisions at lunch. It also starts my day out on the right track and it's so much easier to continue healthy eating throughout the day rather than have a breakfast loaded with empty carbs and sugars and then try and eat healthy afterward.
The sleeping thing is partly to do with the fact that I have been hitting the gym after work, which is between 7:30pm and 8pm, getting me home around 9:30 or 10:00 at night. But really...if I stay up a little later because I can sleep in a little longer, which is my current schedule, is that such a big deal? I think not. However, the house cleaning is lacking and I would love to come home right after work, make dinner, and enjoy the evening at home. Maybe I should work on this. Yes, I should.
H20. I regularly keep a water bottle with me at all times. However, I have realized that I only fill it up once. Which means I am not drinking nearly enough water. Bad, bad girl.
Chocolate. This is the one unhealthy relationship I cannot end. But my goal is to make it a healthier love affair. One that does not ruin a days workout. Meaning, chocolate or other treats are exactly that: treats. Not necessity. In it's absence from my daily life I'll just drink more wine. Totally joking.
Why am I writing so much about the healthy habits I've made lately? Because when you tell people something you usually stick to it. Like I said in my last post, this is a lifestyle, not a summer project. And as much as I like to joke, I am serious about it. And really, my sweet tooth isn't that large. And I do practice self control most days. But if we are all honest with ourselves, how many of us wouldn't consider a bowl of ice cream with hot fudge and cookie crumbles an acceptable meal if we could eat whatever we wanted and not see an ounce of it soon after clinging to our hips? Mmmhmm. That's what I thought.
Happy Wednesday evening everyone!
Early to bed, early to rise. If I do this, I actually get up when my alarm clock goes off, not 45 minutes later.
Drink plenty of water. Makes me pee a lot. A LOT. But also keeps me hydrated when I'm dripping sweat during my workout. Keeps my skin soft, aids digestion, and has plenty of other positive qualities about it.
Don't eat the cookie! Or even nibble on a Hershey's chocolate kiss. One little bite could induce a chocoholic like myself into a dessert binge that would absolutely ruin that hour I just spent kicking my own butt in the gym.
I know these things. So why are these the ones I struggle with the most in my effort to eat clean, workout daily, have a regular sleep pattern, and just say no to my only and ultimate "drug" of choice: chocolate. Chocolate isn't really a drug, but some of us may beg to differ.
Step number one, I am aware these are the areas I need to work on.
Step number two, works on these issues so that they become non-issues.
Easy as pie. Or maybe something other than pie. Pie is sweet, sweet like chocolate. Chocolate. CHOCOLATE.
Easy as broccoli. I just so happen to love broccoli, but I don't often binge on broccoli so I'm not worried.
The breakfast thing I have been working on and doing well at. And my old stand-by has been knocked out of the running when it comes to what fuels me in the morning. Yes, cereal is no longer my breakfast staple. In fact, it has been banned from my cupboard. Why? Because it never fills me up! It has let me down so many times that I should have broken up with cereal years ago. And the cereal I like, which is deemed "healthy" by advertising claims, is full of sugar. No wonder it tastes so good.
So what do I eat while watching the morning news and chugging coffee? I've turned to Greek yogurt with berries and almonds, two hard boiled eggs and a piece of fruit. This much food in the morning used to be against my code of conduct, but I've finally come to my senses. Breakfast IS the most important meal for a reason. When I eat a filling and healthy breakfast I have more energy and make better decisions at lunch. It also starts my day out on the right track and it's so much easier to continue healthy eating throughout the day rather than have a breakfast loaded with empty carbs and sugars and then try and eat healthy afterward.
The sleeping thing is partly to do with the fact that I have been hitting the gym after work, which is between 7:30pm and 8pm, getting me home around 9:30 or 10:00 at night. But really...if I stay up a little later because I can sleep in a little longer, which is my current schedule, is that such a big deal? I think not. However, the house cleaning is lacking and I would love to come home right after work, make dinner, and enjoy the evening at home. Maybe I should work on this. Yes, I should.
H20. I regularly keep a water bottle with me at all times. However, I have realized that I only fill it up once. Which means I am not drinking nearly enough water. Bad, bad girl.
Chocolate. This is the one unhealthy relationship I cannot end. But my goal is to make it a healthier love affair. One that does not ruin a days workout. Meaning, chocolate or other treats are exactly that: treats. Not necessity. In it's absence from my daily life I'll just drink more wine. Totally joking.
Why am I writing so much about the healthy habits I've made lately? Because when you tell people something you usually stick to it. Like I said in my last post, this is a lifestyle, not a summer project. And as much as I like to joke, I am serious about it. And really, my sweet tooth isn't that large. And I do practice self control most days. But if we are all honest with ourselves, how many of us wouldn't consider a bowl of ice cream with hot fudge and cookie crumbles an acceptable meal if we could eat whatever we wanted and not see an ounce of it soon after clinging to our hips? Mmmhmm. That's what I thought.
Happy Wednesday evening everyone!
Sunday, May 20, 2012
Five Months and Three Months
Five months ago I met the love of my life.
Okay, we all know how sappy I can get since meeting my Mountain Man, but I sat down to write and stared at a blank screen for long enough. Which is when I decided to start typing the first thoughts that came to mind. Let me try again.
It's been five months since I met Craig and I couldn't be happier, more in love, or feel more blessed.
Still too much? I'll just move on. Why is the five month mark significant? Because as of today, Craig is gone for the summer and I'll be lucky if I get to see him more than twice until he gets back for good in mid August. He left for Utah, where he will be based out of for a summer of fire fighting. I'm extremely proud of him for choosing a job that requires so much commitment. Not only does he give up his summer, he must be in excellent physical condition and works very hard to stay in shape and be ready for work. And c'mon, he's a firefighter, what isn't to love about that?
While trying my hardest to hold back tears, we said our goodbyes. Okay, so I let a few slip. If you know me, you know this is a complete lie. I'm a crier. His shirt was wet and black with my mascara when I finally let him go. It was definitely not an easy goodbye. And yes, this is the first time I have had to say goodbye to someone I love, who will be gone for an extended period of time. I truly admire those of you that have to do this often or for an even longer time. I know this isn't the end of the world, it's just so hard to say goodbye and see you in three months!
But where, oh where, does the time go? It seems like just yesterday I still had three months until he would leave. And now it's time and he's gone. Before I throw myself a lonely pity party, let me just say that these past five months have been the best months of my life. So what if the upcoming three are a little lonely? He'll be back at the end of the summer and then we can make up for lost time. And yes, three months is exactly how much time I have to wait for him to return.
Not that I plan on sitting at home, knitting him a scarf for when he returns. I don't even know how to knit. And as much as he loves me, I doubt he'd wear a scarf. Actually, I know he wouldn't. Maybe a beanie? Anyway, that's not the point. The point is that I will miss him terribly. So much so that I have to keep myself busy and focused. What am I focusing on? Oh, just a few goals I have set for myself. Ones that I am aiming to have reached by the end of the summer when he returns. So not only will I be counting down the days. Literally. But as I get closer and closer to attaining my goals, I will know that I am also closing the gap between the time he left to the time he comes home.
Curious about my goals? I knew you would be. Here they are, all typed into my blog so that not only do the Mountain Man and I know them but now you do to. And now I must reach them.
Debt Free. If openness was an issue for me we'd have a problem here. I also wouldn't have a blog. Lucky for you, it's not. I have mentioned this in a previous post, but I am living the consequences of a previous swipe-of-the-plastic-credit-card addiction. Luckily, I'm not too far in the hole. But I'm hoping to be completely debt free by September, if not the end of the summer. Totally doable. I just need to make sure I put my blinders on when I walk near a mall, store, cafe, restaurant, or any other indulgence that could send me into a shopping frenzy. And fear not, I have taken care of those tempting little squares of plastic that have whispered over my shoulder as I looked at purchases I could not afford. They are frozen in water in an empty peanut butter jar in my freezer. Where they shall remain until all debts are paid. And then the Mountain Man and I will have a pizza party while we watch them melt. Who says grown up goals can't be celebrated with a good ol' pizza party?
Stella & Dot. Have you heard? No, because I haven't told you. A few moths ago I became an independent stylist with Stella & Dot, a jewelry company with b-e-a-utiful jewelry! Unfortunately, I haven't been very committed to getting it going as a successful business and I plan to change that this summer. Here's the website if I've peaked your interest:
www.stelladot.com/EricaJensen
Please do contact me if you have any questions or would like to host a Trunk Show. Hosting is FUN. I do all the work and you and your best gal pals get to play with jewelry. Plus, as a hostess, you receive 25% of the Trunk Show profits in FREE JEWELRY. But enough of the sales pitch. My goal is to build my business this summer. And if you just so happen to help me do it, well then the wine is on me! (You can hold me to that.)
Garden. In my last post I told you about the Garden Box Craig built for me a few weeks ago. Well it's time to get gardening! Not that I really know what I'm doing. I sure love to eat veggies, I just don't know how to grow them. Yet. My goal is to have a plentiful supply of edible vegetables growing in my lovely garden, by the end of the summer. Stay tuned in to see if I have a green thumb. It sure would be news to me!
Body. Oh yes, you know where this is going. Time for a body makeover. Not that I am displeased with the way I look, so before you judge my reasons, read on. Not that making yourself healthier and changing the way you look is a bad thing. I do, however, think it should be done the right way and for the right reasons. So what are my reasons? Well first of all, I got my bum back in the gym a little over a year ago and liked the results. I was back into running and enjoying it. However, work, stress, and flat out laziness took over and I was back outta shape again. Since meeting Craig, his healthy ways have rubbed off on me and I no longer eat processed food (as much as I can help it), I cook at home probably 100 times as much as I used to, steer clear of eating out, and try my oh so hardest to limit my sugar intake. That's a toughie. Boy, do I like my sweets. And I've gotten myself back into the routine of working out yet again. But this time it's different.
Seriously, it is. I once thought I needed to be a runner to be fit. While running is a great way to stay thin and trim and healthy, I don't think it's for me. Maybe in the future, but I have my goals set elsewhere. And I began to get bored with running, which is also a very good reason to move on to a new workout. To start from the beginning, this goal of mine started when Craig and I decided to hike to the "Mountain Spot" in September when he gets back. It's not really called "the Mountain Spot" but that is what we refer to it as. I actually don't know what the area is called. This particular destination has special meaning. It's probably Craig's favorite place, or at least top ten, and extremely beautiful. However it's a difficult hike. Even for my Mountain Man. So I need to be in great shape to enjoy the hike. Not that I have to, but really, do I want to hike up a mountain that even an experienced hiker such as Craig has to prepare himself for? I think not. I think I'll be as prepared as a gal can be. Along with this desire to conquer the mountain, I want to change my workout and get more out of the gym. Second part of this goal? To conquer the weight room. Meaning, I've had enough of the hours spent of just cardio and sidestepping the intimidating free weights area. I've never been one to sell myself short when it comes to hard work, so it's about time I step up. So far, I've been an animal. Grunting and sweating my way around the gym like I was born to do so. And really, wasn't I? Our bodies are capable of doing amazing things. Yet, we take them for granted. I honestly want to see what I can do. To fly by my old marks of good enough and set new records. Yesterday I went up five pounds in how much I was lifting and I can feel myself getting faster in my cardio sprint intervals. I felt like jumping around and high-fiving everyone. I refrained. However, it's these small triumphs and benchmarks that are going to make this journey so fun. It's going to be hard work, but bring it on.
I don't necessarily have anything I am aiming for with this goal. I'm going to be happy with whatever results my body produces. It's going to be a change in lifestyle that is my goal. So that by the end of the summer this wasn't just a summer project, it's a new way of life.
So there you have it. My to do list while Craig is gone for the summer. Along with these goals, I want to enjoy the summer with friends and family. Even though I'll be missing him, it is summer. My favorite time of year.
90 days. Today is the official start of my countdown. The past five months have made me so happy and I know they will carry me through the next three months. Even more, the love we have is so special, and it too will get me through three months without the Mountain Man. And even though August 19th can't come soon enough, I'm going to enjoy my summer.
The Mountain Man himself, and I, right before he left as we revisited the very spot we went to on our second date. And yes, that is an early 90's Bickleton sweatshirt. It's my favorite.
Favorite Mountain Man, favorite sweatshirt, and one of my favorite spots. I love this picture.
Okay, we all know how sappy I can get since meeting my Mountain Man, but I sat down to write and stared at a blank screen for long enough. Which is when I decided to start typing the first thoughts that came to mind. Let me try again.
It's been five months since I met Craig and I couldn't be happier, more in love, or feel more blessed.
Still too much? I'll just move on. Why is the five month mark significant? Because as of today, Craig is gone for the summer and I'll be lucky if I get to see him more than twice until he gets back for good in mid August. He left for Utah, where he will be based out of for a summer of fire fighting. I'm extremely proud of him for choosing a job that requires so much commitment. Not only does he give up his summer, he must be in excellent physical condition and works very hard to stay in shape and be ready for work. And c'mon, he's a firefighter, what isn't to love about that?
While trying my hardest to hold back tears, we said our goodbyes. Okay, so I let a few slip. If you know me, you know this is a complete lie. I'm a crier. His shirt was wet and black with my mascara when I finally let him go. It was definitely not an easy goodbye. And yes, this is the first time I have had to say goodbye to someone I love, who will be gone for an extended period of time. I truly admire those of you that have to do this often or for an even longer time. I know this isn't the end of the world, it's just so hard to say goodbye and see you in three months!
But where, oh where, does the time go? It seems like just yesterday I still had three months until he would leave. And now it's time and he's gone. Before I throw myself a lonely pity party, let me just say that these past five months have been the best months of my life. So what if the upcoming three are a little lonely? He'll be back at the end of the summer and then we can make up for lost time. And yes, three months is exactly how much time I have to wait for him to return.
Not that I plan on sitting at home, knitting him a scarf for when he returns. I don't even know how to knit. And as much as he loves me, I doubt he'd wear a scarf. Actually, I know he wouldn't. Maybe a beanie? Anyway, that's not the point. The point is that I will miss him terribly. So much so that I have to keep myself busy and focused. What am I focusing on? Oh, just a few goals I have set for myself. Ones that I am aiming to have reached by the end of the summer when he returns. So not only will I be counting down the days. Literally. But as I get closer and closer to attaining my goals, I will know that I am also closing the gap between the time he left to the time he comes home.
Curious about my goals? I knew you would be. Here they are, all typed into my blog so that not only do the Mountain Man and I know them but now you do to. And now I must reach them.
Debt Free. If openness was an issue for me we'd have a problem here. I also wouldn't have a blog. Lucky for you, it's not. I have mentioned this in a previous post, but I am living the consequences of a previous swipe-of-the-plastic-credit-card addiction. Luckily, I'm not too far in the hole. But I'm hoping to be completely debt free by September, if not the end of the summer. Totally doable. I just need to make sure I put my blinders on when I walk near a mall, store, cafe, restaurant, or any other indulgence that could send me into a shopping frenzy. And fear not, I have taken care of those tempting little squares of plastic that have whispered over my shoulder as I looked at purchases I could not afford. They are frozen in water in an empty peanut butter jar in my freezer. Where they shall remain until all debts are paid. And then the Mountain Man and I will have a pizza party while we watch them melt. Who says grown up goals can't be celebrated with a good ol' pizza party?
Stella & Dot. Have you heard? No, because I haven't told you. A few moths ago I became an independent stylist with Stella & Dot, a jewelry company with b-e-a-utiful jewelry! Unfortunately, I haven't been very committed to getting it going as a successful business and I plan to change that this summer. Here's the website if I've peaked your interest:
www.stelladot.com/EricaJensen
Please do contact me if you have any questions or would like to host a Trunk Show. Hosting is FUN. I do all the work and you and your best gal pals get to play with jewelry. Plus, as a hostess, you receive 25% of the Trunk Show profits in FREE JEWELRY. But enough of the sales pitch. My goal is to build my business this summer. And if you just so happen to help me do it, well then the wine is on me! (You can hold me to that.)
Garden. In my last post I told you about the Garden Box Craig built for me a few weeks ago. Well it's time to get gardening! Not that I really know what I'm doing. I sure love to eat veggies, I just don't know how to grow them. Yet. My goal is to have a plentiful supply of edible vegetables growing in my lovely garden, by the end of the summer. Stay tuned in to see if I have a green thumb. It sure would be news to me!
Body. Oh yes, you know where this is going. Time for a body makeover. Not that I am displeased with the way I look, so before you judge my reasons, read on. Not that making yourself healthier and changing the way you look is a bad thing. I do, however, think it should be done the right way and for the right reasons. So what are my reasons? Well first of all, I got my bum back in the gym a little over a year ago and liked the results. I was back into running and enjoying it. However, work, stress, and flat out laziness took over and I was back outta shape again. Since meeting Craig, his healthy ways have rubbed off on me and I no longer eat processed food (as much as I can help it), I cook at home probably 100 times as much as I used to, steer clear of eating out, and try my oh so hardest to limit my sugar intake. That's a toughie. Boy, do I like my sweets. And I've gotten myself back into the routine of working out yet again. But this time it's different.
Seriously, it is. I once thought I needed to be a runner to be fit. While running is a great way to stay thin and trim and healthy, I don't think it's for me. Maybe in the future, but I have my goals set elsewhere. And I began to get bored with running, which is also a very good reason to move on to a new workout. To start from the beginning, this goal of mine started when Craig and I decided to hike to the "Mountain Spot" in September when he gets back. It's not really called "the Mountain Spot" but that is what we refer to it as. I actually don't know what the area is called. This particular destination has special meaning. It's probably Craig's favorite place, or at least top ten, and extremely beautiful. However it's a difficult hike. Even for my Mountain Man. So I need to be in great shape to enjoy the hike. Not that I have to, but really, do I want to hike up a mountain that even an experienced hiker such as Craig has to prepare himself for? I think not. I think I'll be as prepared as a gal can be. Along with this desire to conquer the mountain, I want to change my workout and get more out of the gym. Second part of this goal? To conquer the weight room. Meaning, I've had enough of the hours spent of just cardio and sidestepping the intimidating free weights area. I've never been one to sell myself short when it comes to hard work, so it's about time I step up. So far, I've been an animal. Grunting and sweating my way around the gym like I was born to do so. And really, wasn't I? Our bodies are capable of doing amazing things. Yet, we take them for granted. I honestly want to see what I can do. To fly by my old marks of good enough and set new records. Yesterday I went up five pounds in how much I was lifting and I can feel myself getting faster in my cardio sprint intervals. I felt like jumping around and high-fiving everyone. I refrained. However, it's these small triumphs and benchmarks that are going to make this journey so fun. It's going to be hard work, but bring it on.
I don't necessarily have anything I am aiming for with this goal. I'm going to be happy with whatever results my body produces. It's going to be a change in lifestyle that is my goal. So that by the end of the summer this wasn't just a summer project, it's a new way of life.
So there you have it. My to do list while Craig is gone for the summer. Along with these goals, I want to enjoy the summer with friends and family. Even though I'll be missing him, it is summer. My favorite time of year.
90 days. Today is the official start of my countdown. The past five months have made me so happy and I know they will carry me through the next three months. Even more, the love we have is so special, and it too will get me through three months without the Mountain Man. And even though August 19th can't come soon enough, I'm going to enjoy my summer.
The Mountain Man himself, and I, right before he left as we revisited the very spot we went to on our second date. And yes, that is an early 90's Bickleton sweatshirt. It's my favorite.
Favorite Mountain Man, favorite sweatshirt, and one of my favorite spots. I love this picture.
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Blogging, Bike Riding, and a Box Garden
Hello readers.
I have a confession to make: I have been suffering from commitment issues with my blogging. It's not the blog, it's me. I've taken it for granted, not utilizing it for my creative expression as I was when I started. But as much as I've temporarily drifted away from "These Boots Were Made for Walkin' ", I could never really walk out on it.
I love writing. I love this blog and what it meant to me when I began and what it means to me now. Every time I take the time out of my busy life to sit down and write a new blog post, I feel better, feel less stressed, and more like my fun, honest, and sassy self. So why the trouble to commit to a regular blogging routine? Life is busy. Life is fun. Life is oh so wonderful that I rarely find myself sitting down for any duration of time, unless I'm at work.
But I do love my blog. And as true love goes, I will stick with it through the ups and downs of blogging. If you need me to say it, I'll say it. I vow to have a renewed and consistent commitment to blog. I will not let a week go by without a new blog post. Even if I write five words on what kind of shoes I wore that day. Which we all know would be well over five words. But here's to second chances. And a million new blog posts.
I've been up to a lot in the last month. I moved, which I did tell you about. I got sick twice--which wasn't any fun, so we won't go into any more detail about it. I set myself up for a monthly budget so that I can start saving more money--not that my financial details are really any of anyone's business but my own, but I would definitely encourage everyone to do this. I developed horrible spending habits while I was in college and am still paying for it. There is no better time than now to give yourself a budget, put down the expensive shoes/dress/jeans/purse you really don't need, freeze your credit cards into a giant ice cube that you keep in the freezer, hidden behind the frozen peas you never eat, open a savings account with Jamie Weber at US Bank in the CUB on the WSU campus, or go through your stuff and haul it to your local consignment shop. There are plenty of women who would love to wear those Seven jeans you don't wear but keep anyway, just because you someday might fit into them. Or those platform heels you wore once, to a wedding three years ago, that you keep because you bought them on sale. If it doesn't fit or you haven't/won't wear it, there are great consignment shops these days that will help you sell your stuff.
Alright, I'll get off my soapbox.
Speaking of boxes, Craig and I built a garden box this last weekend. It was a beautiful weekend of warm weather and plenty of sunshine. We definitely soaked it up. It was the first weekend in a long time that we didn't make plans to go anywhere and just stayed in Moscow to get things done and enjoy the weekend. We walked downtown Moscow, just to browse through the stores. Only a Mountain Man would have lived in Moscow for years and never known what downtown was like. So we began our weekend with introducing Craig to downtown Moscow and having a great time at it. Then we moved on to cleaning his old apartment and getting materials ready for our Sunday project. And then, after a full morning and afternoon, just as it was starting to cool down a bit and the sun gives off a less bright and more golden of a glow, we hopped on our bikes and went for a ride. Bikes as in bicycles, in case I made it sound like we have a pair of Harley's we get around on. Which we don't.
Flying onto the Paradise Path, which runs from Moscow to Troy, it was the perfect time of day. Racing each other, riding side by side, talking, laughing, and probably swallowing a few bugs, it was the perfect end to our day. Besides the amazing, mouth-watering burgers we made when we got back. It definitely was a great Saturday. And then came Sunday. I'd like to say we but I really must give all the credit to Craig for building me/us a garden box with storage for firewood underneath. It was once a bed, turned into a bench for his ammo reloading, and has now transformed into quite the deck accessory. On top I have a large space for a garden. Veggies can grow and be picked for many of our homemade meals while firewood is stored below for the winter.
A great weekend is usually ruined by a Monday morning that rudely came to quick. However, this Monday morning I was so happy that I really didn't mind that it was Monday. If only all weekends ended that way.
Hope your week is going well! Another weekend is nearly half way here!
I have a confession to make: I have been suffering from commitment issues with my blogging. It's not the blog, it's me. I've taken it for granted, not utilizing it for my creative expression as I was when I started. But as much as I've temporarily drifted away from "These Boots Were Made for Walkin' ", I could never really walk out on it.
I love writing. I love this blog and what it meant to me when I began and what it means to me now. Every time I take the time out of my busy life to sit down and write a new blog post, I feel better, feel less stressed, and more like my fun, honest, and sassy self. So why the trouble to commit to a regular blogging routine? Life is busy. Life is fun. Life is oh so wonderful that I rarely find myself sitting down for any duration of time, unless I'm at work.
But I do love my blog. And as true love goes, I will stick with it through the ups and downs of blogging. If you need me to say it, I'll say it. I vow to have a renewed and consistent commitment to blog. I will not let a week go by without a new blog post. Even if I write five words on what kind of shoes I wore that day. Which we all know would be well over five words. But here's to second chances. And a million new blog posts.
I've been up to a lot in the last month. I moved, which I did tell you about. I got sick twice--which wasn't any fun, so we won't go into any more detail about it. I set myself up for a monthly budget so that I can start saving more money--not that my financial details are really any of anyone's business but my own, but I would definitely encourage everyone to do this. I developed horrible spending habits while I was in college and am still paying for it. There is no better time than now to give yourself a budget, put down the expensive shoes/dress/jeans/purse you really don't need, freeze your credit cards into a giant ice cube that you keep in the freezer, hidden behind the frozen peas you never eat, open a savings account with Jamie Weber at US Bank in the CUB on the WSU campus, or go through your stuff and haul it to your local consignment shop. There are plenty of women who would love to wear those Seven jeans you don't wear but keep anyway, just because you someday might fit into them. Or those platform heels you wore once, to a wedding three years ago, that you keep because you bought them on sale. If it doesn't fit or you haven't/won't wear it, there are great consignment shops these days that will help you sell your stuff.
Alright, I'll get off my soapbox.
Speaking of boxes, Craig and I built a garden box this last weekend. It was a beautiful weekend of warm weather and plenty of sunshine. We definitely soaked it up. It was the first weekend in a long time that we didn't make plans to go anywhere and just stayed in Moscow to get things done and enjoy the weekend. We walked downtown Moscow, just to browse through the stores. Only a Mountain Man would have lived in Moscow for years and never known what downtown was like. So we began our weekend with introducing Craig to downtown Moscow and having a great time at it. Then we moved on to cleaning his old apartment and getting materials ready for our Sunday project. And then, after a full morning and afternoon, just as it was starting to cool down a bit and the sun gives off a less bright and more golden of a glow, we hopped on our bikes and went for a ride. Bikes as in bicycles, in case I made it sound like we have a pair of Harley's we get around on. Which we don't.
Flying onto the Paradise Path, which runs from Moscow to Troy, it was the perfect time of day. Racing each other, riding side by side, talking, laughing, and probably swallowing a few bugs, it was the perfect end to our day. Besides the amazing, mouth-watering burgers we made when we got back. It definitely was a great Saturday. And then came Sunday. I'd like to say we but I really must give all the credit to Craig for building me/us a garden box with storage for firewood underneath. It was once a bed, turned into a bench for his ammo reloading, and has now transformed into quite the deck accessory. On top I have a large space for a garden. Veggies can grow and be picked for many of our homemade meals while firewood is stored below for the winter.
A great weekend is usually ruined by a Monday morning that rudely came to quick. However, this Monday morning I was so happy that I really didn't mind that it was Monday. If only all weekends ended that way.
Hope your week is going well! Another weekend is nearly half way here!
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Move #13
If the title didn't clue you in, my recent big news is that I'm moving. Not too far away from where I am now and nothing life altering. In fact, this move is supposed to be a good change. I will be closer to work, driving less, spending less, and the man and I will be closer together. Where am I moving to? Moscow, Idaho and in to a nice little condo. Which brings up some exciting changes.
1. I will become an Idaho resident. I wasn't too sure how I felt about this at first. I've been a Washingtonian my entire life. But is being an Idahonian really any different? I guess I'll have to let you know. One thing is for sure, Craig sure is excited. I get to hunt in Idaho this year, which is reason enough to be very excited if your are my Mountain Man.
2. I am moving into a condo. The most grown-up, non college student type of dwelling I have lived in on my own since moving out of my parents house, eight years ago. I'm very excited about this.
3. I have my own washer and dryer. This alone is cause for ME to be very, very happy.
4. I have a back deck with a great view of the sunset. A personal favorite thing to do: watch the sun set while enjoying a glass of wine. Summer, why aren't you here yet?
5. I can go home for lunch. This, my friends, is quite a big deal for me. You might be quite surprised to learn that I have taken up cooking. Yes, this also calls for the attention of an entire blog post and maybe even my boyfriend on video eating and enjoying my meals, I'll work on that next. But I'm still not so great at planning my weekly lunches ahead of time. And driving back home for lunch just isn't worth it. So now, two minutes away from work, I can eat healthier and save money by going to my own home during my lunch break. No more excuses for a last minute lunch.
6. I'll be closer to my boyfriend, who already lives in Moscow. But to be fair, he spends way more time driving over to my house than I do going to his. We both agreed my old place is a little more girlfriend-friendly, which unfortunately for him, that means more driving back and forth. But now, at the new place in Moscow, we'll be less than two miles apart.
7. A new place, even though I've been working in Moscow for almost two years, is always fun to discover. I'm looking forward to getting to know my new town even more, especially over the summer.
8. I'll only be eight miles away from Pullman. I'll always hold a special place in my heart for Pullman. And the people I love that live here. With my best friend still in Pullman, I won't really stay away for too long.
9. I threw away a lot of stuff I don't need that I've acquired since I last moved! I'm the queen of tossing things out. So much so that I accidentally just threw out my new debit card I received in the mail a few days ago. Whoops.
10. Hmmm....not sure what number ten was supposed to be. But I'll just say that I'm excited to move and find a new place to call home. As I'm packing up my little apartment, the one I came to when I moved back to Pullman, the one I've lived in for almost two years and have learned so much about life, love, friendships, forgiveness, loss, and myself. This little apartment has been a comfort, a safe and cozy place, and a good thing to come home to after a long day at work. It's been my home gym, seen boyfriends come and go, my very first full size Christmas tree, Jersey Shore nights with Mandy, winter nights where I watched endless snow flakes fall from the sky while sitting on my kitchen counter, feet in the sink, with a glass of wine. Summertime trips and adventures with Jamie when I'd come through the door, tanned skin, messy river-water hair, with sand in my flip flops. And most recently, it's where I first met my Mountain Man when he picked me up on our first date. It's the teeny-tiny kitchen where I really learned how to cook and started to enjoy cooking. It's been a lovely place to call home and I'm going to miss it. But I'm looking forward to my new home and all of the memories that I will make there.
Sometimes I get so darn sentimental. Who knew moving from an apartment to a condo could bring out my nostalgic side. Although really, what doesn't bring that out of me?
I'm really pretty excited about the new place. Did I mention there is enough room for a dining room table?!
11. Dining room table. I'm looking forward to meals at a table, not standing in the kitchen or with my plate on my lap, sitting on the couch.
Now if only this "spring" weather doesn't snow or rain on us while we move.
I moved in almost two weeks ago. Craig, myself, and a UHaul made the move in one day. After what seems like a billion cardboard boxes, trips back and forth from Pullman to Moscow, and LOTS of organizing, I have settled in to my new home and am very happy with it. Even if the box springs to my queen size bed and large armoire dresser didn't quite make it up the stairs. I'm thinking of creative ways to turn them both into living room furniture. Totally joking. Those *%$@ pieces of furniture are going up the stairs in pieces if they have to.
1. I will become an Idaho resident. I wasn't too sure how I felt about this at first. I've been a Washingtonian my entire life. But is being an Idahonian really any different? I guess I'll have to let you know. One thing is for sure, Craig sure is excited. I get to hunt in Idaho this year, which is reason enough to be very excited if your are my Mountain Man.
2. I am moving into a condo. The most grown-up, non college student type of dwelling I have lived in on my own since moving out of my parents house, eight years ago. I'm very excited about this.
3. I have my own washer and dryer. This alone is cause for ME to be very, very happy.
4. I have a back deck with a great view of the sunset. A personal favorite thing to do: watch the sun set while enjoying a glass of wine. Summer, why aren't you here yet?
5. I can go home for lunch. This, my friends, is quite a big deal for me. You might be quite surprised to learn that I have taken up cooking. Yes, this also calls for the attention of an entire blog post and maybe even my boyfriend on video eating and enjoying my meals, I'll work on that next. But I'm still not so great at planning my weekly lunches ahead of time. And driving back home for lunch just isn't worth it. So now, two minutes away from work, I can eat healthier and save money by going to my own home during my lunch break. No more excuses for a last minute lunch.
6. I'll be closer to my boyfriend, who already lives in Moscow. But to be fair, he spends way more time driving over to my house than I do going to his. We both agreed my old place is a little more girlfriend-friendly, which unfortunately for him, that means more driving back and forth. But now, at the new place in Moscow, we'll be less than two miles apart.
7. A new place, even though I've been working in Moscow for almost two years, is always fun to discover. I'm looking forward to getting to know my new town even more, especially over the summer.
8. I'll only be eight miles away from Pullman. I'll always hold a special place in my heart for Pullman. And the people I love that live here. With my best friend still in Pullman, I won't really stay away for too long.
9. I threw away a lot of stuff I don't need that I've acquired since I last moved! I'm the queen of tossing things out. So much so that I accidentally just threw out my new debit card I received in the mail a few days ago. Whoops.
10. Hmmm....not sure what number ten was supposed to be. But I'll just say that I'm excited to move and find a new place to call home. As I'm packing up my little apartment, the one I came to when I moved back to Pullman, the one I've lived in for almost two years and have learned so much about life, love, friendships, forgiveness, loss, and myself. This little apartment has been a comfort, a safe and cozy place, and a good thing to come home to after a long day at work. It's been my home gym, seen boyfriends come and go, my very first full size Christmas tree, Jersey Shore nights with Mandy, winter nights where I watched endless snow flakes fall from the sky while sitting on my kitchen counter, feet in the sink, with a glass of wine. Summertime trips and adventures with Jamie when I'd come through the door, tanned skin, messy river-water hair, with sand in my flip flops. And most recently, it's where I first met my Mountain Man when he picked me up on our first date. It's the teeny-tiny kitchen where I really learned how to cook and started to enjoy cooking. It's been a lovely place to call home and I'm going to miss it. But I'm looking forward to my new home and all of the memories that I will make there.
Sometimes I get so darn sentimental. Who knew moving from an apartment to a condo could bring out my nostalgic side. Although really, what doesn't bring that out of me?
I'm really pretty excited about the new place. Did I mention there is enough room for a dining room table?!
11. Dining room table. I'm looking forward to meals at a table, not standing in the kitchen or with my plate on my lap, sitting on the couch.
Now if only this "spring" weather doesn't snow or rain on us while we move.
I moved in almost two weeks ago. Craig, myself, and a UHaul made the move in one day. After what seems like a billion cardboard boxes, trips back and forth from Pullman to Moscow, and LOTS of organizing, I have settled in to my new home and am very happy with it. Even if the box springs to my queen size bed and large armoire dresser didn't quite make it up the stairs. I'm thinking of creative ways to turn them both into living room furniture. Totally joking. Those *%$@ pieces of furniture are going up the stairs in pieces if they have to.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Mountain Girl-ing
My Mountain Man is quite extreme in his mountain man-ing skills. His hobbies include hiking for 10 plus miles, camping alone in early spring, or even in winter, long rafting trips during December or January, and hunting all sorts of critters. He loves the outdoors. And I love him. So, naturally, we want to do some of these activities together. Minus the rafting or camping in anything but balmy weather. Or at least when the temps are over 50 degrees. And when we have plenty of warm clothing and food in our packs. He knows me well enough to know better than to take me along on his "Mountain Man" trips. Which is why we have decided to do "Mountain Girl" trips together. Trips that are more to my ability and taste.
We had our first Mountain Girl adventure a few weekends ago, a shed hunting day trip on public land not far from home. Shed hunting is looking for antlers that all bucks lose between the months of January and April. With our packs loaded up with lunch, which he said was a surprise, water, warm clothing, our cameras, binoculars, and other items he needed for such an adventure, we set out on our very first real excursion.
We've done the long drives, short hikes, and wood-cutting in the snow adventures. He later admitted to me that he was nervous that the day wouldn't go well. We wouldn't find any sheds or I wouldn't enjoy myself. Needless to say, he need not have worried.
Bundled up for a winter storm, I quickly got warm enough to shed many of my layers. It was a beautiful day, with lots of sun, big clouds, blue sky, slight winds, and times when the sun was so warm it felt like late spring. We walked along the side of a hill, and I don't mean a mole hill. The hills we were walking along could very well have been the sides of a canyon. Not that we were dangerously scaling a cliff. No way. But as a novice, I was stumbling around quite a bit, more hilarious than scary. And I soon realized my feet were going to be pretty beat up from walking along the uneven hillside with loose rocks that kept throwing me off balance. Craig, the pro, was always a good distance ahead of me. But I didn't mind. That way he couldn't hear all of the commotion I was making as I teetered along, tripping, laughing, and falling. Thank goodness for good hiking boots with awesome support and no injuries--I don't have the best ankles.
Once we got to some open areas where deer would feed, we started walking about twenty feet apart from each other to cover more ground. I knew he wanted nothing more than for me to find the first shed. It would be the first one I'd ever found. And he was so worried that it wouldn't happen that way. But, walking along quietly, I looked up the hill to find a three-point antler, sitting propped up against the hill on a patch of dirt amongst the yellow weeds. Like it was waiting for me. I glanced at him quickly to see he wasn't looking my way and then ran to pick up it. Standing tall and proud I held it up in the air and called to him. He was SO happy! He ran quickly, closing the uphill gap of at least 50 feet between us in seconds. We reveled in the moment and snapped a picture of me and my find. Circling the area in a 50 yard perimeter we looked for the match. Although we didn't find it, we couldn't have been happier.
When it was decided we weren't going to find the other antler, the match to the one I had found, we stood about twenty feet apart from each other and stopped, both grinning from ear to ear. I felt the sun shinning down on us, brighter than it had before. I felt so blessed to be out there with him. To have him in my life. To have found my first shed. To be this happy. Did I mention this was one of those feel-good, mushy posts? Well I didn't realize it was either. Sometimes you just gotta go with the flow. So please stick with me, even if you are a not so romantic at heart or squeamish when it comes to the mushy-gushy.
After the high of finding my first shed, we continued on our journey for more antlers. Keeping up with our earlier routine which helped us spot our first find, we kept a good distance between us. I would walk up the hill and he would look below. Let me do my best to explain the region. We may well have been in a canyon, with a creek running through the bottom and many steep hills, benches, and even some jagged rocky cliffs. As I walked up the side of a hill we were on and he walked the bench below, I got to the edge of the top of the hill and decided it was too steep and brushy for myself to feel comfortable walking down. I couldn't see him, so I circled down to meet up with him. But he wasn't there. Thinking that he must have gone along the side, expecting me to be above him, I quickly followed the path I assumed he took. But he was not there, and I couldn't see around the hill enough to know where he went. A strong panic rose in my chest. I stopped a minute to calm myself down and think clearly. In such a wide open area you wouldn't think you couldn't lose one another. But, with so many dips, up and down and in and out, you wouldn't know if the person was just on the other side of the hill until you crossed it. The wind was strong enough that I knew if he wasn't close he wouldn't hear me. But I tried calling for him anyway. I walked quickly down the hill, looking for him, trying not let my panic get the best of me. When I still didn't see him, I almost let the panic take over. My brain started going through the possibilities as to why he wasn't there. What if we were going in opposite directions, both looking for each other, and just getting further apart? What if I got so lost he couldn't find me? With my adrenaline pumping I made it over the hill until, finally, I spotted him. Far away from me, but still I could see him. Standing across from me on the other side he was using his binoculars to look for me. My heart heaved a heavy sigh of relief and my breathing went back to normal. I set out on my path, pushing through brush, stumbling over rocks, and then reaching a fence that was too low to crawl under and too high to climb over on my own. Looking up I saw a hole in the fence, about five fence posts up and I made a sprint for it, straight up the hill. After crawling through it was a few more minutes until I finally reached him. I was so glad to have that ordeal over with. We decided to take a breather and have some lunch.
And that, my friends, was quite the dramatic explanation of how I thought I was lost in a canyon without my boyfriend. Little did I know he assumed I would be over there, which I should have been if I wouldn't have retraced my steps. And, that he was not as concerned as I was. But of course, and possibly this is just natural to a woman, I worried. My mind automatically spun to the worst case scenario. And what seemed like 30 minutes of endless searching was probably more like a mere five minutes. Funny how your mind can create these scenarios, ones that have your beloved dangling from a cliff, fingers clinging to sweet life. Or it's led you to believe that you completely lost in the broad daylight, with a mere hill in between you and the other person. To say I feel a little silly for panicking is an understatement. But, I did learn from the situation and since my Mountain Girl days are far from over, this is a good thing.
Eager to learn about my surprise lunch? He did such a good job! Sparkling cider to celebrate our first Mountain Girl adventure and indulge in a little bit of romance. And soup he was able to heat up with some kind of can heating device. He's gonna give me a look for screwing up the name of this oh-so-useful tool, but he's not here right now and it's definitely not something I use enough to know what it's called. But it was so thoughtful that we made me warm soup for lunch, knowing all too well my ability to always be cold. I'm such a lucky gal.
After lunch we continued on our search for more sheds. It wasn't until we found some flat spots, on our way back to the pickup, that I struck gold again. Walking alongside each other, looking through the grass, enjoying the late afternoon, I found a very white three point antler laying in the grass that had grown around it. Again, another great moment. From there on it was smooth sailing. He soon found another shed. And then I was hooked. We decided we make a good shed hunting team and want to make a yearly shed hunting trip. One weekend where we camp and look for sheds all weekend. Surprised I'd actually commit to such a yearly trip? Let me shock you further. I suggested it. And then he made me even happier and suggested we do a yearly trip that is something that I want to do. I think this is a great plan. I love it when we compromise.
The way back was much easier going for me. I tripped less, felt like I was going to roll down a steep hill less, and started to feel the rhythm of hiking. And then the time came to hike our way straight up to get back to the pickup. We picked our ascention spot and got at it. My man is in good shape. No wait, very good shape. I don't think it was too difficult for him to climb up that hill like a mountain goat. But for me, moderately in shape, I felt like every five steps was the equivalent to sprinting a mile. Maybe a slight exaggeration, but you get the idea. And then it came time to climb straight up, which is what I thought I was doing before until I reached this particular point. I don't want to paint a dramatic picture of me rock climbing with a pack on my back, but it was very steep. I was using my hands to pull and climb up. Craig suggested we zig-zag up. But this is where my stubborness kicked in and I did not want to take any more time that necessary to get up that hill. So straight up we went. And finally, we reached the top. I know he was proud of me and all worries were gone. We had our first Mountain Girl adventure, and besides one minor setback, it was nearly perfect. We sat on that hillside, arms wrapped around each other, relieved to be on the top side of the hill, or maybe that was just me, and just very happy.
"We always seem to have these romantic moments while sitting on a hill," Craig said. Which is so true. Our second date we sat on the side of a hill and it was then that I knew, two dates in, that he was meant for me. We took a great picture of our first mini hiking trip on the side of a hill. And earlier that day we had a great time sitting on a hill eating our lunch, sipping on sparkling cider. Which was oh so romantic since it was more like chugging straight from the bottle.
Needless to say, we like hills. And much like our hike, and any normal relationship, our relationship has ups and downs, but I'd definitely say we are blessed with more ups than downs. So much so that the "downs" are rarely noticeable amongst all the "ups." And when we reach those high points, we are so content to take the time to enjoy them that any low point we face is well worth all that we learn from it and the journey back up.
It was a great day. It was actually a fantastic day. We were so happy. What am I saying? We are happy. Every day, no matter what.
We had our first Mountain Girl adventure a few weekends ago, a shed hunting day trip on public land not far from home. Shed hunting is looking for antlers that all bucks lose between the months of January and April. With our packs loaded up with lunch, which he said was a surprise, water, warm clothing, our cameras, binoculars, and other items he needed for such an adventure, we set out on our very first real excursion.
We've done the long drives, short hikes, and wood-cutting in the snow adventures. He later admitted to me that he was nervous that the day wouldn't go well. We wouldn't find any sheds or I wouldn't enjoy myself. Needless to say, he need not have worried.
Bundled up for a winter storm, I quickly got warm enough to shed many of my layers. It was a beautiful day, with lots of sun, big clouds, blue sky, slight winds, and times when the sun was so warm it felt like late spring. We walked along the side of a hill, and I don't mean a mole hill. The hills we were walking along could very well have been the sides of a canyon. Not that we were dangerously scaling a cliff. No way. But as a novice, I was stumbling around quite a bit, more hilarious than scary. And I soon realized my feet were going to be pretty beat up from walking along the uneven hillside with loose rocks that kept throwing me off balance. Craig, the pro, was always a good distance ahead of me. But I didn't mind. That way he couldn't hear all of the commotion I was making as I teetered along, tripping, laughing, and falling. Thank goodness for good hiking boots with awesome support and no injuries--I don't have the best ankles.
Once we got to some open areas where deer would feed, we started walking about twenty feet apart from each other to cover more ground. I knew he wanted nothing more than for me to find the first shed. It would be the first one I'd ever found. And he was so worried that it wouldn't happen that way. But, walking along quietly, I looked up the hill to find a three-point antler, sitting propped up against the hill on a patch of dirt amongst the yellow weeds. Like it was waiting for me. I glanced at him quickly to see he wasn't looking my way and then ran to pick up it. Standing tall and proud I held it up in the air and called to him. He was SO happy! He ran quickly, closing the uphill gap of at least 50 feet between us in seconds. We reveled in the moment and snapped a picture of me and my find. Circling the area in a 50 yard perimeter we looked for the match. Although we didn't find it, we couldn't have been happier.
When it was decided we weren't going to find the other antler, the match to the one I had found, we stood about twenty feet apart from each other and stopped, both grinning from ear to ear. I felt the sun shinning down on us, brighter than it had before. I felt so blessed to be out there with him. To have him in my life. To have found my first shed. To be this happy. Did I mention this was one of those feel-good, mushy posts? Well I didn't realize it was either. Sometimes you just gotta go with the flow. So please stick with me, even if you are a not so romantic at heart or squeamish when it comes to the mushy-gushy.
After the high of finding my first shed, we continued on our journey for more antlers. Keeping up with our earlier routine which helped us spot our first find, we kept a good distance between us. I would walk up the hill and he would look below. Let me do my best to explain the region. We may well have been in a canyon, with a creek running through the bottom and many steep hills, benches, and even some jagged rocky cliffs. As I walked up the side of a hill we were on and he walked the bench below, I got to the edge of the top of the hill and decided it was too steep and brushy for myself to feel comfortable walking down. I couldn't see him, so I circled down to meet up with him. But he wasn't there. Thinking that he must have gone along the side, expecting me to be above him, I quickly followed the path I assumed he took. But he was not there, and I couldn't see around the hill enough to know where he went. A strong panic rose in my chest. I stopped a minute to calm myself down and think clearly. In such a wide open area you wouldn't think you couldn't lose one another. But, with so many dips, up and down and in and out, you wouldn't know if the person was just on the other side of the hill until you crossed it. The wind was strong enough that I knew if he wasn't close he wouldn't hear me. But I tried calling for him anyway. I walked quickly down the hill, looking for him, trying not let my panic get the best of me. When I still didn't see him, I almost let the panic take over. My brain started going through the possibilities as to why he wasn't there. What if we were going in opposite directions, both looking for each other, and just getting further apart? What if I got so lost he couldn't find me? With my adrenaline pumping I made it over the hill until, finally, I spotted him. Far away from me, but still I could see him. Standing across from me on the other side he was using his binoculars to look for me. My heart heaved a heavy sigh of relief and my breathing went back to normal. I set out on my path, pushing through brush, stumbling over rocks, and then reaching a fence that was too low to crawl under and too high to climb over on my own. Looking up I saw a hole in the fence, about five fence posts up and I made a sprint for it, straight up the hill. After crawling through it was a few more minutes until I finally reached him. I was so glad to have that ordeal over with. We decided to take a breather and have some lunch.
And that, my friends, was quite the dramatic explanation of how I thought I was lost in a canyon without my boyfriend. Little did I know he assumed I would be over there, which I should have been if I wouldn't have retraced my steps. And, that he was not as concerned as I was. But of course, and possibly this is just natural to a woman, I worried. My mind automatically spun to the worst case scenario. And what seemed like 30 minutes of endless searching was probably more like a mere five minutes. Funny how your mind can create these scenarios, ones that have your beloved dangling from a cliff, fingers clinging to sweet life. Or it's led you to believe that you completely lost in the broad daylight, with a mere hill in between you and the other person. To say I feel a little silly for panicking is an understatement. But, I did learn from the situation and since my Mountain Girl days are far from over, this is a good thing.
Eager to learn about my surprise lunch? He did such a good job! Sparkling cider to celebrate our first Mountain Girl adventure and indulge in a little bit of romance. And soup he was able to heat up with some kind of can heating device. He's gonna give me a look for screwing up the name of this oh-so-useful tool, but he's not here right now and it's definitely not something I use enough to know what it's called. But it was so thoughtful that we made me warm soup for lunch, knowing all too well my ability to always be cold. I'm such a lucky gal.
After lunch we continued on our search for more sheds. It wasn't until we found some flat spots, on our way back to the pickup, that I struck gold again. Walking alongside each other, looking through the grass, enjoying the late afternoon, I found a very white three point antler laying in the grass that had grown around it. Again, another great moment. From there on it was smooth sailing. He soon found another shed. And then I was hooked. We decided we make a good shed hunting team and want to make a yearly shed hunting trip. One weekend where we camp and look for sheds all weekend. Surprised I'd actually commit to such a yearly trip? Let me shock you further. I suggested it. And then he made me even happier and suggested we do a yearly trip that is something that I want to do. I think this is a great plan. I love it when we compromise.
The way back was much easier going for me. I tripped less, felt like I was going to roll down a steep hill less, and started to feel the rhythm of hiking. And then the time came to hike our way straight up to get back to the pickup. We picked our ascention spot and got at it. My man is in good shape. No wait, very good shape. I don't think it was too difficult for him to climb up that hill like a mountain goat. But for me, moderately in shape, I felt like every five steps was the equivalent to sprinting a mile. Maybe a slight exaggeration, but you get the idea. And then it came time to climb straight up, which is what I thought I was doing before until I reached this particular point. I don't want to paint a dramatic picture of me rock climbing with a pack on my back, but it was very steep. I was using my hands to pull and climb up. Craig suggested we zig-zag up. But this is where my stubborness kicked in and I did not want to take any more time that necessary to get up that hill. So straight up we went. And finally, we reached the top. I know he was proud of me and all worries were gone. We had our first Mountain Girl adventure, and besides one minor setback, it was nearly perfect. We sat on that hillside, arms wrapped around each other, relieved to be on the top side of the hill, or maybe that was just me, and just very happy.
"We always seem to have these romantic moments while sitting on a hill," Craig said. Which is so true. Our second date we sat on the side of a hill and it was then that I knew, two dates in, that he was meant for me. We took a great picture of our first mini hiking trip on the side of a hill. And earlier that day we had a great time sitting on a hill eating our lunch, sipping on sparkling cider. Which was oh so romantic since it was more like chugging straight from the bottle.
Needless to say, we like hills. And much like our hike, and any normal relationship, our relationship has ups and downs, but I'd definitely say we are blessed with more ups than downs. So much so that the "downs" are rarely noticeable amongst all the "ups." And when we reach those high points, we are so content to take the time to enjoy them that any low point we face is well worth all that we learn from it and the journey back up.
It was a great day. It was actually a fantastic day. We were so happy. What am I saying? We are happy. Every day, no matter what.
Monday, February 13, 2012
The More Things Change the More They Stay the Same
Well folks, I again have big news.
After plenty of thought and deliberation, many a pros and cons list that weighed heavily on my mind and heart, a long talk with my mom, followed by a long talk with myself, I have made another important decision. One that has again changed the path I am following and the future I am pursuing. I am content and surprisingly relieved with this decision.
I am not moving to Portland or going to the Art Institute.
Now you can say, "I knew it!" or scream "Whyyyyyy?!?!?". To baffle you, confirm your suspicions, or answer your questions, there were two main factors that led me to this decision.
1. Money. There simply just isn't enough of it, is there? At least that's the general consensus of most people I know. And life as a fairly recent post-grad has surely made me value my money. And not just mine, but that of my generous and loving parents, who have already put me through a public, well-known four year university for five years, supported me for nearly my entire life, including those less than financially secure college and post-college years. And now that I have a full time job, with great benefits, a nice place to live, and am starting to build some financial stability, I can't bring myself to throw away such security and independence to go back to school, for a ridiculous amount of money, that I would need from my parents and undoubtedly in loans. And do I really want to be nearly 30, fresh out of college again, with loan payments and starting in the workforce all over again? No, no, and no.
Besides, I truly want my parents to use their hard-earned money for themselves. On vacations and on anything they went without in exchange for supporting their restless and reckless eldest child. Not that my brother was less money, he's just less complicated. I couldn't have been more blessed and I so appreciate all that they have done. But I realized that I didn't want to place this burden upon them or myself.
2. I began to lose heart for "Portland" and all that it meant to leave where I am now and start anew. When I made the initial decision I truly meant it and couldn't wait for the new journey to begin. But, as many of you are aware of, a new journey snuck in and started to lay before me, while I wasn't even paying attention. My heart, for many reasons, is still in the Palouse and I don't think I could leave without regrets. I do love fashion and I haven't given up on a future career in the industry, but I am perfectly content to go about it another way.
Yes, my Mountain Man was a great reason to stay. But when we began our relationship it was understood that I would be moving to Portland in March and we would make it work regardless. But I'll never forget the smile on his face and the way I felt when I told him I was staying.
With all that said, and to echo what I said earlier, I am so happy with my decision. It's interesting how life works. I have always loved Pullman and the Palouse area, so much so that I wanted to move back after I graduated from WSU and left. And even after I did, I wasn't always sure I was where I was supposed to be. Life works in strange ways. I feel as though I went on a journey, with every intention of leaving and having a completely different life, only to find myself doing the opposite. And in that journey I truly did find myself, right where I've always wanted to be.
Just my opinion...but I could never credit random coincidences but give glory to God for so intricately piecing together the puzzle pieces that I would have forever stared at in frustrated incomprehension. It is true, when you hand over control to Him you are inherently blessed with something better than you could ever come up with for yourself. Thank goodness.
The Palouse is a great place to call home. And Portland is a nice place to visit. Like I always say, everything happens for a reason. I could analyze every event, thought, or word in detail to find just how I came to be where I am now. But none of that is necessary. I don't care how it happened, or where I thought I was going. I'm just happy to be where I am now.
After plenty of thought and deliberation, many a pros and cons list that weighed heavily on my mind and heart, a long talk with my mom, followed by a long talk with myself, I have made another important decision. One that has again changed the path I am following and the future I am pursuing. I am content and surprisingly relieved with this decision.
I am not moving to Portland or going to the Art Institute.
Now you can say, "I knew it!" or scream "Whyyyyyy?!?!?". To baffle you, confirm your suspicions, or answer your questions, there were two main factors that led me to this decision.
1. Money. There simply just isn't enough of it, is there? At least that's the general consensus of most people I know. And life as a fairly recent post-grad has surely made me value my money. And not just mine, but that of my generous and loving parents, who have already put me through a public, well-known four year university for five years, supported me for nearly my entire life, including those less than financially secure college and post-college years. And now that I have a full time job, with great benefits, a nice place to live, and am starting to build some financial stability, I can't bring myself to throw away such security and independence to go back to school, for a ridiculous amount of money, that I would need from my parents and undoubtedly in loans. And do I really want to be nearly 30, fresh out of college again, with loan payments and starting in the workforce all over again? No, no, and no.
Besides, I truly want my parents to use their hard-earned money for themselves. On vacations and on anything they went without in exchange for supporting their restless and reckless eldest child. Not that my brother was less money, he's just less complicated. I couldn't have been more blessed and I so appreciate all that they have done. But I realized that I didn't want to place this burden upon them or myself.
2. I began to lose heart for "Portland" and all that it meant to leave where I am now and start anew. When I made the initial decision I truly meant it and couldn't wait for the new journey to begin. But, as many of you are aware of, a new journey snuck in and started to lay before me, while I wasn't even paying attention. My heart, for many reasons, is still in the Palouse and I don't think I could leave without regrets. I do love fashion and I haven't given up on a future career in the industry, but I am perfectly content to go about it another way.
Yes, my Mountain Man was a great reason to stay. But when we began our relationship it was understood that I would be moving to Portland in March and we would make it work regardless. But I'll never forget the smile on his face and the way I felt when I told him I was staying.
With all that said, and to echo what I said earlier, I am so happy with my decision. It's interesting how life works. I have always loved Pullman and the Palouse area, so much so that I wanted to move back after I graduated from WSU and left. And even after I did, I wasn't always sure I was where I was supposed to be. Life works in strange ways. I feel as though I went on a journey, with every intention of leaving and having a completely different life, only to find myself doing the opposite. And in that journey I truly did find myself, right where I've always wanted to be.
Just my opinion...but I could never credit random coincidences but give glory to God for so intricately piecing together the puzzle pieces that I would have forever stared at in frustrated incomprehension. It is true, when you hand over control to Him you are inherently blessed with something better than you could ever come up with for yourself. Thank goodness.
The Palouse is a great place to call home. And Portland is a nice place to visit. Like I always say, everything happens for a reason. I could analyze every event, thought, or word in detail to find just how I came to be where I am now. But none of that is necessary. I don't care how it happened, or where I thought I was going. I'm just happy to be where I am now.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Antlers, Cast Iron, and Eggs. Oh My!
The Mountain Man and I had been dating a mere two weeks when Christmas rolled around. To gift or not to gift was something we had not discussed. Which was why I was quite surprised one evening when, after loading up our plates with a tasty home-cooked meal and sitting down to eat, I noticed a brown paper bag sitting under my Christmas tree.
Mid chew, with a mouth full of pasta, I looked at him and asked, "Wha's tha?" He smiled that perfect crooked smile I love. "You'll just have to go down there and find out."
He had given me my first Christmas gift from him. All wrapped up in a brown grocery bag was cast iron cookware.
Did I forget to mention that cooking is not my strong point and I don't spend much time in the kitchen unless I'm pouring myself a glass of wine or looking for something edible on the nearly bare shelves of my lonely refrigerator? Was this a hint? I eyed him suspiciously. He had an expectant smile on his face. And then I remembered. He swears by cast iron cookware. And that might be an understatement. The first time he cooked for me in my kitchen and pulled a Teflon pan out of the cabinet I thought I was going to have to pick his jaw up off the floor for him. Apparently Teflon is bad for you and can cause cancer. Cast iron cookware now rules in our kitchen, the Teflon pots and pans gather dust on the bottom shelves. Which is what most of my kitchen utensils were doing until my cooking, baking, and frying machine of a Mountain Man showed up.
I wasn't displeased with my gift by any means. I was happy that he was thoughtful enough to get me a gift at all and that he had gotten me something that he knew would be good for me and we would use together. In fact, we do so much cooking together that these new cast iron essentials have become a mainstay on my stove. Cast iron does take some maintenance. To keep them doin' their thing and doin' it well, you need to oil them after they are cleaned. Just pour some oil on the clean and dry pan or pot, let it burn off and then wipe dry. Then put them away. Those first few steps don't always get done, so this happens:
Please excuse the messy stove top. This was taken after quite the messy fried-chicken and apple pie making sesh. Which was done by yours truly. As an early Valentine's Day surprise (and not to conflict with what I already know are his V-day plans for us - he's making me my favorite meal) I made him dinner.
Yes, folks, I cooked. And baked. Check for flying pigs next time you step outside.
My man loves to eat. Which explains all the cooking. A man with as big of a hunger as he has, complete with a very strict sense of frugality, he cooks at home a lot to save money and stay full, which is easier said that done. I meant the part about him staying full. We've had his favorite meal a few times now. It's an easy one. Fried chicken with homemade honey-mustard dipping sauce, mashed potatoes, and apple pie. What a good American. Not to mention he won't even buy hardware tools if they aren't made in America.
I've been playing around in the kitchen a bit lately, mostly when he is there to help me with the ingredients, or rather when I offer to help what he's already started. Nevertheless I knew what I wanted to do. Blow him away by surprising him with dinner. His favorite dinner.
Long story short, and what could quite possibly be a whole other blog post, the cooking and baking went very well. Even with a late start and a short freak-out session. I didn't get pictures, but I did snap one of the half-eaten pie before it's gone.
And every time I open my drawer to reach for a spoon for my Greek non-fat yogurt, that thankfully doesn't get touched by him, I see these...
A hunting knife, which is apparently better than my dull kitchen knives. I've already lost the battle on this one. I may have a future of hunting-like knives in my kitchen, but there are other battles to worry about winning.
Oh, and yes I do have silverware, just not any clean ones at the moment.
Besides the kitchen getting a Mountain Man makeover, the rest of my apartment has some new items.
A nice collection of deer and elk antlers have found their way into my home. Right now that is exactly where they sit. Looking like some kind of trap to caution against anyone that might try and steal my tiny little flat screen TV that fits just right in my tiny little entertainment center. But I've welcomed them, the antlers. I see them as decorations. I'm sure he's thrilled to have his precious "sheds" sitting next to my candles and books and picture frames. In all honestly, I really think he loves it.
Excuse the dust...apparently it shows up more with the flash of a camera. And apparently I need to do some dusting.
But my favorite use by far for the antlers is when they are used as a toy by my grown man of a boyfriend. With an antler nestled into his shoulder, I've walked into the room to see him pointing it at the TV, pretending it's a gun, complete with sound effects and arm movements. It's a priceless picture. I can see him, five years old and doing the same thing. And I can also see him, years from now and doing the same thing with his young son. Isn't that what we love about our men, ladies? That they never truly grow up.
But they are grown up and when they love you it shows. Which is why my Mountain Man took the time to mount my deer antlers onto a plaque. The antlers from my first deer, that I shot at home in Bickleton in the fall of 2010.
We haven't got it up on the wall yet but I'm so appreciative of his hard work and thoughtfulness. He even burned this into the wood:
What a sweetheart. Did I mention I don't mind all the things he's brought into my home since we started dating? I don't at all.
Sidenote: The Mountain Man and I do not live together, but we do spend a lot of time at my place, including all the cooking and baking that we love to do together. And the antlers have found their home with me for storage reasons. When the day comes that we do live together there will be plenty more "whaaaat am I gonna do with that thing???" moments. So far it's just food, heavy cookware, and antlers. I'm such a lucky girl.
Mid chew, with a mouth full of pasta, I looked at him and asked, "Wha's tha?" He smiled that perfect crooked smile I love. "You'll just have to go down there and find out."
He had given me my first Christmas gift from him. All wrapped up in a brown grocery bag was cast iron cookware.
Did I forget to mention that cooking is not my strong point and I don't spend much time in the kitchen unless I'm pouring myself a glass of wine or looking for something edible on the nearly bare shelves of my lonely refrigerator? Was this a hint? I eyed him suspiciously. He had an expectant smile on his face. And then I remembered. He swears by cast iron cookware. And that might be an understatement. The first time he cooked for me in my kitchen and pulled a Teflon pan out of the cabinet I thought I was going to have to pick his jaw up off the floor for him. Apparently Teflon is bad for you and can cause cancer. Cast iron cookware now rules in our kitchen, the Teflon pots and pans gather dust on the bottom shelves. Which is what most of my kitchen utensils were doing until my cooking, baking, and frying machine of a Mountain Man showed up.
I wasn't displeased with my gift by any means. I was happy that he was thoughtful enough to get me a gift at all and that he had gotten me something that he knew would be good for me and we would use together. In fact, we do so much cooking together that these new cast iron essentials have become a mainstay on my stove. Cast iron does take some maintenance. To keep them doin' their thing and doin' it well, you need to oil them after they are cleaned. Just pour some oil on the clean and dry pan or pot, let it burn off and then wipe dry. Then put them away. Those first few steps don't always get done, so this happens:
Please excuse the messy stove top. This was taken after quite the messy fried-chicken and apple pie making sesh. Which was done by yours truly. As an early Valentine's Day surprise (and not to conflict with what I already know are his V-day plans for us - he's making me my favorite meal) I made him dinner.
Yes, folks, I cooked. And baked. Check for flying pigs next time you step outside.
My man loves to eat. Which explains all the cooking. A man with as big of a hunger as he has, complete with a very strict sense of frugality, he cooks at home a lot to save money and stay full, which is easier said that done. I meant the part about him staying full. We've had his favorite meal a few times now. It's an easy one. Fried chicken with homemade honey-mustard dipping sauce, mashed potatoes, and apple pie. What a good American. Not to mention he won't even buy hardware tools if they aren't made in America.
I've been playing around in the kitchen a bit lately, mostly when he is there to help me with the ingredients, or rather when I offer to help what he's already started. Nevertheless I knew what I wanted to do. Blow him away by surprising him with dinner. His favorite dinner.
Long story short, and what could quite possibly be a whole other blog post, the cooking and baking went very well. Even with a late start and a short freak-out session. I didn't get pictures, but I did snap one of the half-eaten pie before it's gone.
The picture doesn't do it justice. But that super flaky crust you see is delicious. And those red spots are raisins. Who knew raisins were so good in pie?! Well, I didn't.
Speaking of cooking and baking and all that jazz. You should see my fridge. If only I had a before picture to really get you to grasp the meaning of the after picture...
This is the fullest my fridge has ever been. There are leftovers, milk that hasn't gone bad, fresh fruit and veggies, and ingredients that I have learned work together to make actual meals.
And I'm sure most of you thought it was the woman's job to introduce domestic skills such as cooking and baking to the man. Well, my friends, I have proven this to not always be the case. And don't be fooled, there are definitely signs of a true man partially dwelling in my home....
Hot sauce is the condiment of choice for men. I've never seen someone get so excited in a grocery store when we found this extra large bottle of Frank's RedHot sauce.
And you must have plenty of eggs to feed a hungry Mountain Man...
And every time I open my drawer to reach for a spoon for my Greek non-fat yogurt, that thankfully doesn't get touched by him, I see these...
A hunting knife, which is apparently better than my dull kitchen knives. I've already lost the battle on this one. I may have a future of hunting-like knives in my kitchen, but there are other battles to worry about winning.
Oh, and yes I do have silverware, just not any clean ones at the moment.
Besides the kitchen getting a Mountain Man makeover, the rest of my apartment has some new items.
A nice collection of deer and elk antlers have found their way into my home. Right now that is exactly where they sit. Looking like some kind of trap to caution against anyone that might try and steal my tiny little flat screen TV that fits just right in my tiny little entertainment center. But I've welcomed them, the antlers. I see them as decorations. I'm sure he's thrilled to have his precious "sheds" sitting next to my candles and books and picture frames. In all honestly, I really think he loves it.
Excuse the dust...apparently it shows up more with the flash of a camera. And apparently I need to do some dusting.
But my favorite use by far for the antlers is when they are used as a toy by my grown man of a boyfriend. With an antler nestled into his shoulder, I've walked into the room to see him pointing it at the TV, pretending it's a gun, complete with sound effects and arm movements. It's a priceless picture. I can see him, five years old and doing the same thing. And I can also see him, years from now and doing the same thing with his young son. Isn't that what we love about our men, ladies? That they never truly grow up.
But they are grown up and when they love you it shows. Which is why my Mountain Man took the time to mount my deer antlers onto a plaque. The antlers from my first deer, that I shot at home in Bickleton in the fall of 2010.
We haven't got it up on the wall yet but I'm so appreciative of his hard work and thoughtfulness. He even burned this into the wood:
What a sweetheart. Did I mention I don't mind all the things he's brought into my home since we started dating? I don't at all.
Sidenote: The Mountain Man and I do not live together, but we do spend a lot of time at my place, including all the cooking and baking that we love to do together. And the antlers have found their home with me for storage reasons. When the day comes that we do live together there will be plenty more "whaaaat am I gonna do with that thing???" moments. So far it's just food, heavy cookware, and antlers. I'm such a lucky girl.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Home Sweet Home
There's nothing like a trek to the mother land to secure your sense of self and renew your spirits. At least that's how I feel every time I return to my hometown. It's not quite a mother land like if I was returning to another country after years of being away, but sometimes such strong feelings for a place, like home, require a dramatic description.
Bickleton, my small and isolated hometown, is full of many things dear to my heart. People, certain places like Pine Creek, the grove of trees below our house where I used to play, and the timber where my dad logged for so many years, my dogs, and a thousand memories of a childhood filled with endless hours spent playing and exploring the expanse of land and trees and creeks that is only offered to us lucky rural dwellers. There is freedom in those open fields and skies, canyons, timber, and waters. Freedom that encourages creativity, strength, and knowledge in a young persons mind.
I get a little nostalgic when I think about my hometown, obviously. I get a little defensive whenever I hear someone put down a small town, speak ignorantly about the people from a small town, or in some other way make assumptions and false statements about anything having to do with rural America. One look at me and you may not think I am from a small town. You may never guess that I graduated in a class of only nine students, or that I come from two prominent families that farmed and ranched in the north eastern area of Klickitat county. You may never know, unless you asked, that I showed steers for nine years as a 4-H member. Or that I played on the varsity volleyball and basketball teams as a seventh grader because the high school numbers were down that year.
Do I look "small town"? From the surprised looks I get when I tell people where I am from, I would guess not. But did I learn significant values such as hard work, respect, humility, and honesty, to name a few, from growing up in a small town? Absolutely. Not that you can't learn these values elsewhere or from a different form of being raised, but I do thank God for the blessing of growing up in a small town.
All of that being said, I recently went home for a weekend and loved it. It probably had a lot to do with me taking a certain special someone home with me for the first time. That special someone also met my parents for the first time. Yes, it was the man.
They loved him. He loved them. He loves Bickleton.
HALLELUJAH!!!!
Excuse me while I breathe a big sigh of relief. Not that I was worried. I really wasn't at all. But there is something very special about the relationship between the person I want to be with and my family. There is a huge part of my heart reserved for my family and I want the love of my life to have a place in his heart for them too. And also...for my dogs and my hometown and my extended family. Of course.
And I truly do believe he is the man that is capable and willing to love every bit of my life as I do. And yes, people, that deserves a big sigh of relief and a big smile for finally finding someone to share all of that with.
I've never felt more at home in my hometown, surrounded by my family and loved ones, with the man that holds my heart. It was a great weekend indeed.
And now that I've exceeded the mushy-gushyness level allowed per blog post as previously set by my single self, I will end with this thought:
If home is where your heart is, my home dwells in a number of people and places. Bickleton, my true hometown. My crazy, silly, loving family. My truest and best friends. My dog, Sadie, and all family dogs, past and present. My grandparents house and the trees and barns that I spent a childhood playing in. My second hometown, Pullman. And most recently, my Mountain Man.
Home is most definitely a sweet place to be.
Bickleton, my small and isolated hometown, is full of many things dear to my heart. People, certain places like Pine Creek, the grove of trees below our house where I used to play, and the timber where my dad logged for so many years, my dogs, and a thousand memories of a childhood filled with endless hours spent playing and exploring the expanse of land and trees and creeks that is only offered to us lucky rural dwellers. There is freedom in those open fields and skies, canyons, timber, and waters. Freedom that encourages creativity, strength, and knowledge in a young persons mind.
I get a little nostalgic when I think about my hometown, obviously. I get a little defensive whenever I hear someone put down a small town, speak ignorantly about the people from a small town, or in some other way make assumptions and false statements about anything having to do with rural America. One look at me and you may not think I am from a small town. You may never guess that I graduated in a class of only nine students, or that I come from two prominent families that farmed and ranched in the north eastern area of Klickitat county. You may never know, unless you asked, that I showed steers for nine years as a 4-H member. Or that I played on the varsity volleyball and basketball teams as a seventh grader because the high school numbers were down that year.
Do I look "small town"? From the surprised looks I get when I tell people where I am from, I would guess not. But did I learn significant values such as hard work, respect, humility, and honesty, to name a few, from growing up in a small town? Absolutely. Not that you can't learn these values elsewhere or from a different form of being raised, but I do thank God for the blessing of growing up in a small town.
All of that being said, I recently went home for a weekend and loved it. It probably had a lot to do with me taking a certain special someone home with me for the first time. That special someone also met my parents for the first time. Yes, it was the man.
They loved him. He loved them. He loves Bickleton.
HALLELUJAH!!!!
Excuse me while I breathe a big sigh of relief. Not that I was worried. I really wasn't at all. But there is something very special about the relationship between the person I want to be with and my family. There is a huge part of my heart reserved for my family and I want the love of my life to have a place in his heart for them too. And also...for my dogs and my hometown and my extended family. Of course.
And I truly do believe he is the man that is capable and willing to love every bit of my life as I do. And yes, people, that deserves a big sigh of relief and a big smile for finally finding someone to share all of that with.
I've never felt more at home in my hometown, surrounded by my family and loved ones, with the man that holds my heart. It was a great weekend indeed.
And now that I've exceeded the mushy-gushyness level allowed per blog post as previously set by my single self, I will end with this thought:
If home is where your heart is, my home dwells in a number of people and places. Bickleton, my true hometown. My crazy, silly, loving family. My truest and best friends. My dog, Sadie, and all family dogs, past and present. My grandparents house and the trees and barns that I spent a childhood playing in. My second hometown, Pullman. And most recently, my Mountain Man.
Home is most definitely a sweet place to be.
Friday, January 27, 2012
We have an Adventure List.
The mountain man and I are doing great.
Before I dive in to a ridiculously long and obnoxious list of why he is so wonderful, let me just say that a man that enjoys cooking, doesn't sit glassy-eyed in front of the television for hours on end, believes in a good work ethic, enjoys hard physical labor, is always on time, has given me nothing but a million reasons why I can trust him with my ever so fragile and wary heart, makes me laugh until I can't breath, and looks like a model even with all that hunting camo, with the most beautiful blue eyes and smile....wait a minute, I'm doing it aren't I?
What I mean to say in not quite so many words, is that I have truly found a man that is good to me and good for me. This boot walkin' girl has been stopped dead in her tracks by a sometimes shy, but as she knows him, a goofy, strong, highly animated when story-telling, honest, hard working, loving, man.
And I feel that my lone boot walkin' days are over. Which is perfectly and completely fine by me. Especially since we eat good food--he's teaching me how to cook and I'm actually eating regular meals--and we enjoy being active, being outdoors, and are insanely happy just to be together.
For those of you rolling your eyes and gagging...get over it. I've waited a long time to be this happy.
But enough of the rainbows and puppies. The newest update is that we have an adventure list. What is an adventure list,? A list of places we want to go and things we want to do over the next two years. Not that the adventure ends then....it's just as far as our list goes.
Our list contains hiking, rafting, camping, hunting and all the adventurous things my Mountain Man has primarily been doing on his own before I came along. I'm thrilled that he wants to include me into this area of his life. He's ecstatic that I want to go. We're both a little wary of how it will go. Yes, I'm outdoorsy. But if we were comparing our outdoorsy-ness, I would be like the family dog that likes to run and play in the outdoors and enjoy the occasional family camping trip, venture to the river or casual hike. He would be like the wild bear that lives off of nuts and berries and roams around like he owns the wilderness. My feelings for him won't change, even if he drags me up a cliff while I complain about my feet or my back or the weather or how fast he wants us to go.
Which is why we will start out small and work up for the longer hikes and bigger climbs. Besides, I plan to be in very good shape.
Sidenote: I am beginning training for my first half marathon. So yes, I should be in very good shape. Even though running and hiking are different and require different muscles. But at least I'm not going from the couch to the mountain.
I've never had an adventure list before. No, I take that back. I've always had a list of things I wanted to do and see. And up until he came along I've been going about life, checking things off and adding new items to that list. Now, with my Mountain Man at my side, I have a new list to conquer.
I still have my own list, such as running my first half marathon. And things I want to do with others, such as take another girls trip to Vegas, or go to Ireland with my mom, as well as other things I was to accomplish on my own. But I'm so glad to have that adventure list with him.
And as for the adventures we've already had, I've learned one thing:
Happiness is definitely not overrated.
And for the adventures to come from that list with the Mountain Man, there will be plenty of fun stories to tell, so stay tuned.
Before I dive in to a ridiculously long and obnoxious list of why he is so wonderful, let me just say that a man that enjoys cooking, doesn't sit glassy-eyed in front of the television for hours on end, believes in a good work ethic, enjoys hard physical labor, is always on time, has given me nothing but a million reasons why I can trust him with my ever so fragile and wary heart, makes me laugh until I can't breath, and looks like a model even with all that hunting camo, with the most beautiful blue eyes and smile....wait a minute, I'm doing it aren't I?
What I mean to say in not quite so many words, is that I have truly found a man that is good to me and good for me. This boot walkin' girl has been stopped dead in her tracks by a sometimes shy, but as she knows him, a goofy, strong, highly animated when story-telling, honest, hard working, loving, man.
And I feel that my lone boot walkin' days are over. Which is perfectly and completely fine by me. Especially since we eat good food--he's teaching me how to cook and I'm actually eating regular meals--and we enjoy being active, being outdoors, and are insanely happy just to be together.
For those of you rolling your eyes and gagging...get over it. I've waited a long time to be this happy.
But enough of the rainbows and puppies. The newest update is that we have an adventure list. What is an adventure list,? A list of places we want to go and things we want to do over the next two years. Not that the adventure ends then....it's just as far as our list goes.
Our list contains hiking, rafting, camping, hunting and all the adventurous things my Mountain Man has primarily been doing on his own before I came along. I'm thrilled that he wants to include me into this area of his life. He's ecstatic that I want to go. We're both a little wary of how it will go. Yes, I'm outdoorsy. But if we were comparing our outdoorsy-ness, I would be like the family dog that likes to run and play in the outdoors and enjoy the occasional family camping trip, venture to the river or casual hike. He would be like the wild bear that lives off of nuts and berries and roams around like he owns the wilderness. My feelings for him won't change, even if he drags me up a cliff while I complain about my feet or my back or the weather or how fast he wants us to go.
Which is why we will start out small and work up for the longer hikes and bigger climbs. Besides, I plan to be in very good shape.
Sidenote: I am beginning training for my first half marathon. So yes, I should be in very good shape. Even though running and hiking are different and require different muscles. But at least I'm not going from the couch to the mountain.
I've never had an adventure list before. No, I take that back. I've always had a list of things I wanted to do and see. And up until he came along I've been going about life, checking things off and adding new items to that list. Now, with my Mountain Man at my side, I have a new list to conquer.
I still have my own list, such as running my first half marathon. And things I want to do with others, such as take another girls trip to Vegas, or go to Ireland with my mom, as well as other things I was to accomplish on my own. But I'm so glad to have that adventure list with him.
And as for the adventures we've already had, I've learned one thing:
Happiness is definitely not overrated.
And for the adventures to come from that list with the Mountain Man, there will be plenty of fun stories to tell, so stay tuned.
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