I know a place

This is just a bunch of pictures from the amazing weekend just spent at my true home, Camp Little Notch. It truly is the greatest place in the world, and I'm not just saying that for the benefit of any Girl Scouts of Northeastern New York staff members who might happen upon this (if any of them are, though, we are definitely not standing inside the furnace in the bottom picture). I don't have too much to say about it because the whole place is a little bit beyond words for me, but it was great to catch up with people and see how much some people have changed, how much some people haven't (see Pizza Mikey, right - only Mikey...), and how deeply I'm tied to people and a place I see only infrequently these days. So, my apologies to those involved for the bathingsuit shots, but thanks to everyone who made my weekend and my entire childhood and adolescence and, well, life totally incredible...

An instructional video

This is really meant for Kirsten, but I figured I'd post it here anyway...

Jiggly Wiggly

Just some pics of Ayesha's and my camping trip last weekend...the weather forecasts were dire, but apart from some added slipperiness and diminished views on Algonquin (that improved at the last minute), we didn't have too much trouble. We were mostly disturbed by the mysterious noises that seemed to be coming from a nearby RV...that's the price we pay for car camping, I guess. Check out the amount of stuff we had for breakfast alone, though, and I think you'll see why backpacking was a less practical option. We had 3 different kinds of coffee - not exactly roughing it in an extreme sort of way. Episode #3 (aka Operation Jiggly Wiggly) of the tasting tour of halal/kosher marshmallows available in Minneapolis held a surprising twist - an unexpected hint of strawberry flavor - but it didn't ruin the s'mores, and it was still a far cry better than the last round. For those who might be interested, beef gelatin makes a way better marshmallow than fish gelatin. Anyway, we had a great time, and if Ayesha ever comes back to the States after residency, I think she might even comtinue to help me toward my extremely eventual goal of becoming an Adirondack 46er. 3 down, 43 to go...

Olympic fever

Broken - last night, for the first time this go-round, I started to get a little tired of watching the Olympics. Bob Costas is as benignly charming as ever and I continue to explore theories about what syndrome of abnormal skeletal growth and ligamentous laxity Michael Phelps might have, but I think it's time to get out from in front of the TV. So, it's a good thing Ayesha and I are going camping this weekend - no TV in the tent.

Here are some photo highlights from the last week and a half or so - Lisa at the sculpture exhibit in the NY botanical garden, Jennie grieving for Wellesley in the White House (sorry, Jennie - maybe Hillary would've done better to show her feminine side by wearing more pretty pink like you), my little cousin Makayla being christened, and my mom kicking old lady ass at the New Hampshire Senior Games.

Other highlights have included catching up with lots of extended family, going to the track, sleeping in on a regular basis, and running alongside the erstwhile Erie Canal, where I seem to startle at least one heron per run. It's probably annoying for them to have some noisy girl come pounding down the pavement at them, but I really enjoy watching them fly away in that slow-motion way they have.

For now, it's time to turn off the TV (seriously - I don't even know what sport this is) and think about getting ready for the weekend...camping pics next week!

Bog Road

I love the northeast - I really do. Mostly, it's the shapes of the land, the smells of the soil and the trees and the friends, family and memories that live here that make it feel like home to me, but I love other things about it, too. I love the ubiquitous Stewart's Shops with their cheap, tasty ice cream (and the hygienically questionable make your own sundaes) and, of course, the availability of a wide variety of exciting beers I've gone without for three years (this hotel even sells them by the bottle in the lobby - Harpoon and Smuttynose, no less). I even love the metastatic proliferation of Dunkin' Donuts - I'm not sure all of America runs on Dunkin', but the parts of it north of Baltimore and east of Pittsburgh certainly could, assuming their insulin secretion is up to snuff. I'm a total sucker for their iced coffee - I haven't succumbed to the lure of the donuts themselves yet, but travels in Canada last summer made me a Timbit snob and I haven't quite gotten over that yet. I've got the ice cream and beer to flesh out my caloric intake, anyway. I also love the straightforwardness of the northeast - I know people in Minnesota thought I spoke my mind a little too much, but I'm no match for the total stranger who looked me in the eye the other day (while I was engaged in the very offensive act of ordering a milkshake) and said, "Fuck you, white trash." Okay, she seemed a little off-kilter in general - I've never seen anyone attack a quaint glass bottle of chocolate milk quite like this woman did - but I appreciated her willingness to speak her mind. Also, I went for an absolutely gorgeous run today (definitely on the Best Runs Ever list) on a road in New Hampshire called Bog Road - I really should not have been as surprised as I was when, after a couple of miles, I ended up at...a bog. Not a quaking one, but definitely a bog. I grew up in suburban Houston, where streets have pretty nature names (Coral Sands, Willow Shores, Sycamore Lake) that typically reference things that in no way occur in nature within, say, a few hours' drive (past the oil refineries and megachurches). While I appreciate the imaginary - I once had a set of no fewer than 8 made-up siblings, and I really like the show Dragon Tales - and understand the power of wishful thinking, especially in arboreally bereft areas like the outskirts of Houston, it's refreshing to have things be a little more literal. More on recent fun activities once I can coax some pics off my new camera...

Two short documentaries

I had to suck it up and use Google video to get these things to work, but I think it's worth it to share these extremely well planned, professional quality films.  Enjoy.

Also, I changed the settings to allow comments without a Google login.  So if you have something nice to say, please do.  

The Venga bus is coming

to North Carolina, in the form of a just-barely-big-enough (thanks, Sorenson's mover guys) 12 foot Penske truck careening over the mountains as its driver takes scenic through-the-windshield photos like this. Of note, the only purpose that mirror served was to block this shot (well, and to reassure us that the back of the truck was in fact still connected to the front). Photographic mishaps aside, it's good to be back here where we can get a quart of sweet tea for 89 cents at Bojangle's and the people are friendly - the guy who tried to hitch a ride in the truck even admitted that his request was "real sketchy," and was nice about it when Kirsten turned him down. So far, we've caught up with a few friends here, taken the Ayesha Kadir Chapel Hill nostalgia tour, finally met Boot Steenker, unloaded all of our spare stuff onto Kirsten's parents (thanks, Deb and Bri - and Kilgore the cat, whose room is being taken over by boxes) and realized that living in Minnesota for three years has made us about as tough as soft serve ice cream in the summer heat. Oh, and we made a little bit of time in between Food Network afternoon programming to send back our acceptance letters for our jobs in New Zealand. I suppose we will have to go back to work eventually...blast. For now, though, it's off to New York for Heather and on to hardcore boards study time for Kirsten...more soon!

Faster than a speeding bullet

is the speed at which we flew across the prairie from Minnesota to North Carolina...well, not quite. Illinois is really long, especially when you drive the entire length of the state in one go (and the rhyming pro-gun signs in the cornfields are more annoying than amusing, really). We broke up our trip with some pizza at the Monical's in Arcola (thanks for the recommendation, Deb-O) and with a requisite visit to the "giant" Superman statue in Metropolis. We were most impressed by its ungiantness - there's a big statue of a grocery clerk at the other end of town that really looks bigger (though some guy eavesdropping on our conversation swore it isn't). Ayesha made a solo detour to Carbondale to get some St. Louis specialties - Fitz's root beer and Ted Drewe's frozen custard - from Schnuck's (an actual grocery store name - almost as good as Piggly Wiggly, but not quite). After we conquered Illinois, we blew through western Kentucky before pulling off in Nashville, Ayesha's birthplace/college haunt, for a night with the extremely gracious Hans Willi (sans lederhosen), Marianne and Morty the dog. We didn't get a picture of Morty, but he played a good game of tug. Partly in his honor, but mostly for nostalgic purposes, we stopped by Fido coffee house in the morning before setting off over the mountains for North Carolina - their super tasty muffins became crucial for endurance when we got stuck in traffic getting around the exploded car in Knoxville...

Welcome to Wisconsin

This is a very emotionally loaded video shot in the parking lot of the Spirit Seller liquor store in Hudson, Wisconsin, site of many a Sunday Sconnie run (okay, maybe we only went twice - we like to plan ahead). We actually rehearsed this repeatedly prior to the final take...

Bye Bye, Beautiful

We're sure Minnesota was sad to see us go. After all, we are the Beautiful Twins, as evidenced by our fetching kanga-belly dancer hat outfits. This picture was snapped just after we performed a hybrid Turkish-Tanzanian traditional dance to celebrate our departure. We expect to see an even better dance from Cecily next year - she did inherit the hats, after all...