What latest adventure got us into this achy breaky mess? Dune sledding. Two days of it at Great Sand Dunes National Park. We can only describe it with one word: ohmygoodnessthatwasFUN! There are some places you go and sit and stare in slack-jawed wonder at the beauty and others convince you that when God made the Earth he was happy to create a few playgrounds.
My back hurts and I am sporting new bruises. My tailbone took a solid pounding and now it hurts to sit or stand. Kevin is scraped and scabbed and sore. He just turned 43 yesterday. We are getting a bit old for this stuff, but the kids are fine. What latest adventure got us into this achy breaky mess? Dune sledding. Two days of it at Great Sand Dunes National Park. We can only describe it with one word: ohmygoodnessthatwasFUN! There are some places you go and sit and stare in slack-jawed wonder at the beauty and others convince you that when God made the Earth he was happy to create a few playgrounds. The knife edges are great before you walk all over them, then the wind repairs them within a day. When we asked the kids how they think the dunes were formed and why right there between a mountain range and sweeping desert plain they came up with this: "When God was done with this part of the world He noticed he had some leftover sand in his pocket so he dumped it here saying, 'Watch them try to figure this one out.' " We did not get the best weather for photography on this particular visit. Kevin, Joel and I were here last April with friends and the weather was far better. This time around we got a lot of afternoon precipitation and wind so the big camera spent most of her time in the safety of my bag while the iPhone and the GoPro did the lion's share of the documentary work. afternoon storm clouds Honestly, I would not have cared if we left with no good photos at all, because the dune sledding was so much fun it cancelled out any further bummers. Joel and I created two videos of our thrills and spills. The kids declared this park to be in their top three favorites so far. And if my rump still hurts a month from now I will still think it was all worth it. This first video is the the whole experience. The second video is just the gnarly wipe-outs. - Jenni
Colorado Springs is home to the United States Olympic Committee and also the Olympic Training Center. We figured it would be interesting but it turned out to be a real treat, far better than we had even expected. The tour begins with a movie featuring clips of American athletes in both the Olympic and Paralympic Games. I don’t know about you, but I am an absolute sucker for emotional video montages of the thrilling victorious moments. The games are one of the few reasons I see fit to still own a television set. I cry with every medal ceremony, and I cried during the tour video. Table tennis, anyone? Our tour was led by Jay (not sure I spelled her name right), who is a weight lifter. If storing random sports facts were an Olympic sport, Jay would be a gold medal favorite. She had plenty of information as we toured each venue and was still able to answer every question we threw at her, from the type of ammo used by the shooters to the voting procedure to remove or add a new sport to the games. The center is home to mainly summer sports training facilities, although figure skaters come to the area frequently. While winter athletes have to train elsewhere, they are still able to utilize the sports medicine clinic. World record long jump distance: 29 feet, 2 1/2 inches. Name the athlete (without googling it). In all, we saw facilities for shooting, aquatics, gymnastics, wrestling, weight lifting, and boxing. The visitor center has a gift shop (USA Curling t-shirts!), a Hall of Fame, torches from the last three games hosted by the US, and a sculpture garden. About two-thirds of the tour is outdoors so if you go, plan to do so on a day with decent weather. The tour is free. The center does a great job of showcasing the Paralympics, but until we create the sort of audience that will cause the networks to show more coverage, I think we are still failing these brave athletes. Figure skating is good for all kinds of fun. Gold medal photo bomb. And we had to reshoot it because the first take was a little off. So does that count as photo bomb doping? Race to the podium Whaddup, McKayla?
During our time in Colorado Springs we took a tour of the Compassion International headquarters. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this organization, Compassion rescues children from poverty in twenty six different countries around the globe by connecting them with sponsors. Since I do not think I could do justice to their cause with my attempt to explain it, I will let you check out their website yourself and will just share with you our tour and our own experience. Our trip to the world headquarters was not simply a tour of a large facility. Our guide shared with us a replica of a very typical dwelling for most sponsored children. We also saw artwork by some of the children and the area where letters are processed. From our own experience sponsoring children in Indonesia and El Salvador, I can tell you the letter writing is the best part. We have been sponsors for four years now and in that time we have had the opportunity to see these kids grow in their faith and wisdom through the letters they faithfully send us nearly every month. painting by a sponsored child in Haiti One of the coolest things about Compassion is how they partner with the local churches to minister to the entire family of a sponsored child. Compassion does not send Americans to do the work -- they fund those who are already there, who are well-versed in the local culture and have gained the community's trust so that the needs of children can be met in a way that best serves not just the child but the whole community. Last May, my friend Kelli (from Minivansarehot.com) was blessed to travel on the annual Compassion bloggers tour to Tanzania. Kelli witnessed firsthand just how well sponsorship works. I won't even try to summarize her words...read her blog posts from that week here. It just happened that another cool Compassion event was happening in the Springs while we were there: the "Change the Story" tour was in town. It's a rolling recreation of a sponsored child's life. You walk through his different homes and hear his story in his own words. It's heartbreaking, but it has a happy ending. A recent study showed that child sponsorship really does work. If you are going through Colorado Springs we would definitely encourage you to visit Compassion and see for yourself what they are doing to bring hope to children living in poverty. Today we went dune sledding in Great Sand Dunes NP. It was awesome. It was epic. These are the days we are so thankful to have a GoPro camera. We will be sledding more tomorrow (weather permitting -- it's currently raining/windy/snowing/insert your favorite bad weather here), and when we have a bunch more cool footage we will put together a little video montage. But for now, here's a little teaser for you. While we were in Colorado Springs it snowed twice. I don’t have a lot of experience with snow, but I do believe Colorado snow is just different. There is something really awesome about it. I think since the air is much dryer overall the cold just doesn’t feel quite so bone-chilling and the powdery nature of the flakes feels magical. The only thing that makes it better is when you get to see the critters out enjoying it. Well, okay, I cannot verify they are indeed enjoying it. Maybe they are just doing what they do daily anyway, but we watched a neighbor’s dog run around in the snow and he seemed to be having a grand time, kicking up powder and face-planting on the sharp turns. The best were the deer. This group goes by Russ and Mary’s house nearly every day and I caught them coming through for lunch. I kept my distance, thrilled that my long lens still works perfectly despite it’s canyoneering event, and fired off a bunch of shots. The deer kept an eye on me, but for the most part they did not seem to mind my presence. Except the doe which decided to bolt over the fence. I have a pretty long list of reasons why I love to homeschool: freedom, moving at our own pace, fun art projects, the annual shopping bonanza at Staples. And let’s not forget hair, as in “not having to style anyone’s.” I S. T. I. N. K. at fixing hair. I cannot stress this point strongly enough. Hairdressers always marvel at how healthy my own brunette tresses are and I feebly admit it’s only because I seldom blow dry, curl or do harsh things to it because I don’t know how. And also, I really don’t care. I also hate shopping and pink and I own fewer pairs of shoes than my husband (4), but that’s another blog post entirely. God, in His wonderful sense of humor, gave me two girls. Two girls with lovely hair. But homeschooling means there is zero pressure to get my younglings out the door with cute ribbons or French braids or whatever. We’re doing good if they remember (read: if I remind them) to run a brush through it. One time a friend’s daughter was spending the night and at bedtime, in order to avoid tangles, she asked me to braid her thick, lustrous hair. I took the brush in my trembling hands and said, “Sure, Sweetie.” But what really went through my mind was more like, “Zoe, I would dash through a burning house, take on hungry cheetahs, or even jump out of a plane to save you, but braid your hair? Child, you know not what you are asking.” I wish I had a picture of the resulting um, braid. Then you would understand. One of the challenges of this nomadic lifestyle is being away from your favorite stylist. Mine is super-talented. Like, really, she deserves a cape but for some reason every time I go to see her she puts it on me. The very last time we saw Amber before our departure she gave me a personal tutorial on how to cut the girls’ hair so we would not be forced to visit a stylist we know nothing about, which in terms of risk level is on par with crossing I-4 through Orlando on foot or perhaps wearing a bacon vest while on safari. Amber very patiently guided and explained and allowed me to take the shears and practice while we were still in a position for her to fix any major blunders. Poor Amber. I think she had to go home and take Valium after watching me nearly sever my own digits. As a going-away gift Amber gave me a bag full of all the supplies I would need to ruin -- I mean, trim up the girls’ hair. Their last real cut was in early January and they were beginning to complain about bangs in their eyes and I decided I could not longer avoid this task. So with great trepidation I took out the gear and tried to remember all of Amber’s instructions. What are the clips for? How do I hold the thinning shears? The moon needs to be aligned with what? Now, we were undertaking this feat while far away from the Bob T, so I had packed the minimum I thought I would need, and alas, I forgot the little water spray bottle for keeping hair wet. So we started out with a bang (rimshot) with Em having to stick her head under the faucet. Mind you, it’s April in Colorado and the water comes out COLD. Having survived step one, we moved on. I didn’t have a good place to perch Em that put her at the right height so I alternated between half-squats and pressing my back against the wall to wedge myself level to her shoulders. Also, I didn’t even remember this necessary point until halfway into the process. The result? The cut is pretty uneven. And by uneven I mean, if I were to try to rectify the problem by trimming the other side to match she would be sporting a mullet. Crikey. Em's hair is ridiculously hard to part. Ugh... I like the clips. Safe and easy. The shears on the other hand...I could sever an artery. And don't even get me started on the thinners. I took the tag off, but then wimped out and just left them in the bag. The final result? Well, I suppose it could be worse. I could have turned the job over to blind weasels. The upshot is that she is happy as long as her bangs are shorter and I figure it will all grow out anyway. And also, it is still fairly cold here so we get to wear big ol' knitted snow hats.
Now, if I could just make that trend work year round... I am not good at this. Sitting still. And by that, I mean not having a plan and having to wait to figure out what is next. Oh, I can literally sit still for quite a long time. So much so that I suspect a small part of my genome is based on lizard DNA. But even in the moments of sitting, my brain is going full tilt and I have a project in the works and I know what I will dive into when I finally get up and move.
We had planned to be back on the road tomorrow, headed for a few days of camping at Great Sand Dunes National Park with friends. Then we heard back from the dealer who is performing the warranty work on our trailer. He (his name is Diesel) (no, I didn't make that up) said scary things about the suspension. I don't know much about vehicles at all so I mostly heard, "wuahwaaahwutwaahhhh" interspersed with "welding" and "put it on a flatbed trailer and send it to Indiana to be completely replaced," which is the point where I switched to thinking about unicorns and hot tea to avoid passing out. Since this now looked to be a manufacturer's issue, it turned out we would have to wait a day or two to know what the future of our journey might hold. I was hoping it did not hold Indiana. Indiana was not ever part of the plan. We have no bucket list items in Indiana. Don't they major in corn there? We weren't even going to drive through. So that is where the sitting still comes in. Are we here for a few more days or a few more weeks? Should we drive somewhere else? It's too early to hike any 14ers and too late to ski (not that I ski). Most of the other Colorado attractions we had in mind are a solid six hours away and we hate to wear out our welcome here with our friends. I could blog. I have three other decent blog posts up my sleeves, but they are only fun with the photos and I can't process or load them without Rock One (our main computer), which is in the trailer. At the dealer. With Diesel and his excellent crew working underneath it. Criminy. We did a lot of school work. I reread a great book. We took the kids to the Compassion International headquarters for the tour (blog post coming) and enjoyed the deer that hang around (other blog post coming). I trimmed Kristin's bangs without drawing blood (yet another blog post). And God has provided other little fun diversions like a coyote and snow and a pair of alpacas getting a ride in a Suburban. Maybe the best was my two hour phone chat with a friend, who helped me remember where we are aiming with our educational goals for this trip and why (once again) I need to take a deep breath and relax about the books. So as of this morning I am pleased to report that the worst-case scenario on the trailer, the one where Indiana was prominently featured, is highly unlikely at this point, the chassis is fine, and this delay will probably turn out to be short. And after those deep breaths and the forced sitting still, I am letting God reorient my thoughts and my aims and help me appreciate the down time. Because I needed it. I needed to spend time writing and dreaming and brainstorming and handing it all to Him. His plans are always better. Anyway, He made Indiana. It's probably a pretty cool place. -Jenni For the next few days we are relaxing in "the Springs," aka Colorado Springs, but you have to call it the Springs or you sound like a tourist. We may not sound like tourists, but we certainly will act like them as we visit such places as Pike's Peak, Compassion International and the US Olympic Training Facility, weather permitting. I say that because it's about 35 degrees out and snowing, but to this Floridian it might as well be an arctic blizzard. I don't do cold.
Our friends, Russ and Mary, whom we met on a visit here last year, are our gracious hosts while Bob T is getting some warranty work done. While Bob gets a few renovations, we thought a little rejuvenation was due to our website as well. You may have already noticed the changes, but if not, here is a brief list:
-Jenni Several days ago we explored Petrified Forest National Park. As I write this I am toasty warm in the home of our wonderfully hospitable Colorado friends, my belly full of leftovers from a really great Mexican restaurant in Santa Fe and I can't come up with a whole lot of wordiness for this post. So I will just share the photos and my brief ramblings. First of all, don't steal pieces of petrified wood! For one, it's illegal -- don't take stuff from a national park. The preservation of nature is why they exist. An estimated one ton of petrified wood is illegally removed from the park each month. Crikey! Secondly, you can buy or even get free pieces from gift shops all around the area and it's not expensive ($4 will get you a dozen small pieces). And lastly, the visitor center has a huge binder full of letters from people who stole wood, suffered odd bouts of really bad fortune (everything from ant attacks to plane crashes) and returned it with their apologies and remorse. While the wood is really cool, the colorful mounds of ash and minerals were my personal favorite part. Framed against a cobalt blue sky (thanks, polarizing filter!) they make for cool photos. So if you're passing through this end of Arizona, make a day trip to see the Petrified Forest. And please leave the wood where it belongs.
-Jenni On our way to Petrified Forest National Park, we drove a short stretch of the famous Route 66 through the small town of Holbrook, Arizona. I was riding in the back seat, immersed in the latest issue of National Geographic but I looked up long enough to notice something: a motel that bore an uncanny resemblance to the Cozy Cone Motel from the Disney/Pixar movie Cars. Holbrook is a mixture of old and new. There is a nice shiny Safeway nestled between a tire shop and another merchant, neither of which I could determine to be open or closed. There are souvenir shops and Tex-Mex joints festooned with neon lighting. And it seems almost every store has a very large concrete dinosaur or six. About twenty minutes outside of Holbrook is the entrance to Petrified Forest National Park and the Crystal Forest Gift Shop, where they let you camp for free! There are no amenities save for a picnic table with a nice ramada and optional electric hook-up for $10. But it is clean and quiet and they give out free chunks of petrified wood. We stayed for two nights. As we drove east toward Albuquerque we passed this collection of red rock formations that immediately made us think of "Ornament Valley," again from the movie Cars. I am about convinced Pixar hauled their lead animators and artists out here to do their visual research before they sat down to get to work on the movie. When we roughed out our itinerary for this year, I will admit that seeing any part of Route 66 was not on our list. Once again, the road has taken me by surprise and offered up some unexpected fun.
-Jenni We left the Grand Canyon yesterday morning headed for Petrified Forest National Monument, but I wanted to share a few more of the photos we captured while we were enjoying our hike down and our day touring the south rim overlooks. When we were here on the north rim five years ago, I could not comprehend the magnitude of what I was seeing, nor could I relax and enjoy it. The girls were four and two, and I spent most of my time making sure someone had them firmly by the hand. That very week another family tragically lost their four year old daughter when she fell more than 400 feet from the rim trail. I did not sleep well the whole time we were there and I couldn't wait to leave. But this time was different. From the moment I got my very first view of the south rim from the Bright Angel trailhead I was stunned and something felt new. We spent the day after our hike out just touring and enjoying the overlooks and this park that five short years ago held me in fear now felt like a sort of home the same way the rest of the desert southwest does. I don't want to over-spiritualize the experience, but I really think hiking down in and watching my kids travel expertly and safely with very little protective guidance beyond their own good sense and training was the thing that helped me make peace with one of the most amazing sights I will ever see. This time I did not want to leave. Yesterday at 3:30 p.m. our fearless crew of five emerged unscathed from the Big Ditch (aka the Grand Canyon). It was the end of what had become one of the most (okay, the most) eagerly anticipated event of our year long adventure. We hit the Bright Angel Trail at about 9:15 a.m. Monday. Kevin, being the brilliant trip planner and researcher that he is, had booked mule service for the heavier part of our load so the girls would not be responsible for carrying heavy packs. This was a really, really good idea. Looking back, I cannot imagine what condition we might have been in had we had to carry that extra fifty or so pounds ourselves. Things like clean underwear and toothpaste might have otherwise been deemed luxuries that did not make the cut. The weather forecast was not ideal, but not altogether horrible. Slightly chilly with snow at the rim and rain below it, a 30% chance of thunderstorms. The first three miles were fine, if not cold. Then the wind picked up. Wind is not the best description. It was more like gusts that blasted sand in all directions, driving hikers to crouch in fetal positions with their backs to the canyon until it died down. The volume of sand we carried out in our hair, ears and eyelids would make you think this canyon could easily have been carved in a few thousand years by wind erosion and unlucky hikers alone. We survived the sand blasting to be met almost immediately with rain. We had no sooner donned rain gear and rejoiced that the moisture might wet down the sand when we realized it was actually sleet. Awesome. But the best was yet to come. Through the thick cloud cover I thought I caught a sudden white burst of light and had just enough time to wonder if it was lightning when the air split open with a loud boom. Have I ever mentioned that the only thing I find more terrifying than heights is lightning? We were about half an hour from shelter at the Indian Garden campground at this point but I think we made it there in fifteen minutes after that little um....motivational moment. We entered a ranger station to find about twelve other hikers crammed into a room that was maybe the size of a small toolshed. No worries. I’ll take cramped over electrocuted any day of the week. After about thirty minutes the sun came out a bit and we hit the trail again. And this is where it got amazing. Indian Garden marks roughly the halfway point and the elevation is about 3800 feet. This is where the cacti are beginning to bloom and wildflowers abound and the trees are the most stunning shade of bright green. The rim was dusted with fresh snow. The trail drops into a gorge of yellow rock and when it emerges below the next ridge you round a corner to see a part of the Grand Canyon we had not expected. I can’t really describe it. Here are some pictures: Admit it...you laughed. Had we started earlier we might have avoided the worst weather, but we would not have avoided the mules. This is an acceptable trade off in my opinion because you have to yield the trail to them when they pass. And mules take their half out of the middle. There are more than a few stretches of trail where I am not sure there is room for both without someone having to scale a cliff. Eight hours and 9.5 miles after our start, we arrived safely at Bright Angel Camp and Phantom Ranch. We (Kevin) set up camp and enjoyed the next two nights at the bottom. We explored the area, met the mules, ate some delicious ranch cuisine, and the girls earned Junior Ranger badges only available to those who make it to the bottom. We slept like stones in the fresh air to the sounds of the rushing creek that joins the Colorado River. We even watched a scorpion chew two legs off an unlucky spider. Did you know spiders don’t climb walls very well with only six legs? You’re welcome. And we checked off school for the day. Many a hiker insists that going down is harder than going up. I was ready to agree with that based on past experiences, but when you’re talking Grand Canyon I have to differ. As evidence I offer this: one solid mile of vertical gain over nine and a half miles of trail with only one place to refill your water bottles. Lot of people go too far down and are seriously injured or even die trying get back up. There was no point on the way down that I had to will myself to just put one foot in front of the other and keep moving, but on the way up my legs felt like lead and my lungs were equally spent. Also, our conversations grew downright goofy. Consider these astute intellectual offerings: “That water sure looks wet....I mean...cold.” “Too much mool -- myoop -- mook....donkey dung.” “I don’t really get NASCAR. I mean, a few laps okay, but 500? Turn left...turn left....left again. Really???” (Okay, so that last one really makes a lot of sense.) But we kept moving. We emerged from the canyon tired and happy and thrilled to have done it (in only 7 hours! A fine speed for a family with two young ones). We celebrated with dinner at the Arizona Room and in a desperate attempt to replace calories (also, a nod to my FIL who once ran all the way down and back up in one day then drank a Coors) I actually had a beer (and I’ve never liked beer). And a salad. And a big plate of enchiladas. And cheesecake with prickly pear sauce. And I still woke up in the middle of the night hungry. -Jenni FRIENDS AND FAMILY VISITED: 18 MILES COVERED: 8,774 NATIONAL PARKS VISITED: 17 JR. RANGER BADGES EARNED: 15 (Grand Canyon and Bryce NPs in progress) STATES DRIVEN THROUGH: 12 WILDLIFE SPOTTED: 6 coyotes, 5 pronghorns, 12 javelinas, 2 prairie dogs, 5 jack rabbits, numerous chipmunks or antelope squirrels or whatever they are, 1 kangaroo rat, too many mule deer, 2 elk, 6 donkeys, 5 road runners MILES HIKED: 49.8 PHOTOS TAKEN: 3,466 GLORIOUS SUNRISES & SUNSETS: lost count NEW FRIENDS MADE: 16 (counting dogs and those we only know through email) BSF IN DIFFERENT CITIES: 3 S'MORES CONSUMED: 97 MEMORIES MADE: a lifetime worth
This is a National Parks Passport booklet. You take it with you to all the parks and get it stamped. We bought one for all three kids when we realized that our vacation trend seemed be national parks. We figured this would one day be a great souvenir and we aimed to collect as many stamps as we could before the kids grew up. One day a few weeks ago it occured to me that if we lost one of these books it would be really, really sad. While we could certainly buy new ones, we would lose all the stamps we had acquired thus far. So I whipped out a marker and wrote my phone number in each booklet, hoping against all odds that if it were lost someone might find it and call us. Last week that is precisely what happened. Kristin's booklet went MIA and we didn't notice it until we were in Utah. We stamped small pieces of paper with the plan to tape them into her booklet when it turned up, but that didn't happen. We gave up hope, figuring it had fallen out of the truck somewhere. Then I got a call from Death Valley National Park. Someone had found it and they offered to mail it to us. I did the Happy Dance right here in the trailer. This is my iPad. While it has no sentimental value, it certainly is valuable. While grocery shopping in Hurricane, Utah (locals pronounce it "hurri-CUHN;" we Floridians say "Hurric-AYN" -- silent final e makes the vowel say it's name) it was left in the shopping cart. An employee found it and took it to the front desk where they looked in my contacts and called my mom, because she is listed as "Mom," and of course that seemed like a good place to start. Before we even realized it was absent my mom was calling to ask if I was missing my iPad. Hallelujah! My list called "Where We Put Stuff" was in there. Without it we can't find anything in this beast. We might have had to turn around and go home because how else am I going to find the toilet paper and lantern and S'more supplies? These honest people have no idea what they rescued. Commence Happy Dance again. (In case you're wondering, it is equal parts Running Man, Gangnam Style and White Girl with Overbite). (Oh, and that funky thing Lee Stuart does with On our way through southern Utah a couple of weeks ago we stopped for gas. An attendant at the repair shop pointed out that one of our trailer tires was very low. He offered to get under and take a good look and when he did he found a huge bolt embedded in the treads. Kevin asked how long it might take to fix. The man offered to just plug it, as he said that would work just as well if not better than replacing the tire. It took about fifteen minutes and he would NOT let us pay him. We are in Sedona right now and I am not bothering to blog or post photos because frankly, we aren't terribly impressed. Too many houses and tour helicopters and airplanes buzzing around overhead and I just didn't think a Debbie Downer style blog post was worth your while to read. But we are totally impressed with the honest and helpful people that still inhabit this big blue marble. They not only make life more enjoyable but the trip a little easier. -Jenni P.S. I just finished a mountain biking class at the campground here at Dead Horse Ranch State Park. It was top notch and by the end I was riding stuff that used to make me screech my brakes and declare my wussdom (it's a word) to whomever could hear. So what I am saying here is that the course is well worth $5 and four hours if you happen to be here on any Saturday before May 4. Yesterday we shared our organizing strategies for the kitchen and closets. Today I intend to sing the praises of Command Adhesives. Whoever came up with these little gems must be every bit as much an organizational nerd as am I. First off, before we had even decided which rig we’d be purchasing I had in mind that it would need some sprucing up. The vast majority of RVs and travel trailers are decorated in such a manner as befits a tiny eighties-era model apartment. Picture brown, and every shade of it you can imagine. Almond, Burnt Umber, Mocha, India Spice, Chai Spice, and Old Spice. Lava Rock, New Rock, Old Rocks, Old Sandals, and even Moose Pelt. In this fiver alone we have enough shades of brown to impress Makayla Maroney. And this is NORMAL for an RV. They all look this way. Except one I recently saw that began as a nice green but faded to beige and that is technically brown so whatever. Anyway.... I knew this deal was going to need some real color and I had just the ticket: a cool photographic print of three luscious red (Brazilian Lipstick?) jars given to me by my friend Tammy and created by Carolyn Marchetti. It was sent to me all matted nicely and I popped it right onto a bedroom wall with Command Adhesives. Then when my youngest created a lovely butterfly mosaic I was also able to display it with the knowledge that when we sell this big rolling Richter I can take the sentimental masterpieces with us. The ability to hang and safely remove artwork at a later date is super, but the place where these little stickies really shine is for storing and organizing items that have no other logical location (read: we ran out of room in the cabinets). Enter the most excellent Command Hook. Unrelated to the Command hooks, I finally got the counter top looking better. It was out of control like a jock with ‘roid rage. As in, I have thirteen feet of kitchen counter space (Crikey -- no wonder we’re big enough to effect local tides) and still have trouble finding workspace at dinner time most nights. I prefer (newsflash) to have order and clear areas. When we shipped some large stuff home and Kevin spent the morning creating a huge bit of negative space in the lower storage area I gazed upon it with wonder and for a split second contemplated sleeping in it just for the sheer enjoyment. Don’t judge. So between the clearing of space and the hooks everywhere, we finally seem to have a pretty nicely organized groove in this rig. Our rolling home is actually presentable enough to post a few photos for those of you who have been asking. Or gave up stopped asking like two months ago. But not tonight. I am going to go cook up some southwestern cuisine on my really clean and spacious countertops. -Jenni |
Archives
July 2014
|