Showing posts with label driving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label driving. Show all posts

“If you don’t get lost, there’s a chance you may never be found.”

–Anonymous


A couple weekends ago we went for a lovely fall drive through middle New England. It was a relaxing, Pyrex-hunting, apple-picking, family-bonding jaunt. It was a windows down, cool fall breeze in our hair, not sure where we are going kind of day. In other words, the best kind of day.

My husband is a hot dog connoisseur. So it wasn't surprising that, when lunch time came around, he had already located a hot dog joint. It was a lovely time. The boys played Frisbee while we waited for our food, and we gorged ourselves on naughty deliciousness.

I like hot dogs...but I don't have the love affair my husband shares with them. When I was pregnant with my son I had my first Chicago dog. Then I ate them regularly until he was born. Which probably explains his desire to eat them every night for dinner.

Hot dogs have become quite the "it" food as of late. Gourmet hot dogs are not uncommon, and this trend has breathed new life into the ever-present hot dog industry. This place was no exception.

Cheers!
The man doesn't play around.
The purist . . . although Martha says ketchup on hot dogs is uncouth.
My avocado dog. It was awesome. And healthy, right?
Oh, yeah.

Here's to getting lost with the family. And to more days like this one.

 

Hot Diggity Dog

Monday, September 24, 2012

After our apple-picking marathon on Sunday, we decided that some barbeque would hit the spot. The Top of the Hill Grill, in Brattleboro, Vermont is so much fun. And delish. My husband made the observation that we ate there on Memorial Day, then again the day before Labor Day. For us, Summer 2012 started and ended at this place. There is something really cool about that.

The menu is composed of paper plates backs decorated and placed around the window. I greatly respect the copious amount of glitter paint used.
The "Top of the Hill" part. I love dinner with a view.
My dinner. I don't usually eat pork, but I had to make an exception.
A man and his meat. In the spirit of transparency: Mr. Picky did NOT eat the beans and coleslaw. We had them serve his cornbread separately so that it didn't touch the other food. We've been down that particular road before and prefer to avoid it. His picky eating is probably the thing I have the least patience for.
He was all in.
Banana Boy. They had a hammock that J couldn't get enough of.
Apple-picking, meat-eating, sunset-watching hot tubber. He works for a spa manufacturer . . . so he really is hot tub obsessed.
    
After dinner we embarked on the scenic drive home. It really is lovely. Along the way we stopped at a small dam and played by the river.

View from the bridge that separates New Hampshire and Vermont
Enjoying the scenery.
The kid has never seen a ledge he didn't want to walk on. Sidewalk shmidewalk.
 
An impromptu rock-skipping lesson. Mario's rocks skip for days. It's a rather wonderful talent.

It was such a great day! Without realizing it, I live for days like this. It is so easy to get caught up in the hustle and bustle and stress of daily life that I often for get to live in the now. This day was all about the present. What a gift.

It Ended Where It Began

Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Prior to living in New Hampshire, we were bona fide Cardinals fans. As in, St. Louisites. Or St. Louisans. I'm not sure which. It's a groovy city. Even better? The people. We met some amazing, lifelong friends in the 3 1/2 years we called St. Louis home.

Watching The Lorax
 

Since we had the whole month of August free this year, we decided to get in another trip this summer. I also wanted to get my new wheels on the open road and really stretch her legs. The natural solution? A road trip to Saint Louie. Duh!


Reading about Marvel characters...for the zillionth time
 

Day one of our two day trek to St. Louis? In the bag. I'm writing this from a Residence Inn in Columbus, Ohio. Driving across the eastern half of the States with my boys? Yes, please! If given the choice and the time, I'd take driving over flying any day. I love the experience and lack of claustrophobic hassle. Plus, you can't see the world's biggest privately owned Lego collection from a plane.


My studly man friend. He suggested we buy one of those weird Sprinter vans and live on the road. I would drive and he would work from his mobile office in the back. I think he secretly harbors the desire to be a gypsy. I was afraid the next suggestion would be to sell dream catchers out of said Sprinter at state fairs. Uh, perhaps we've bonded enough for now, Honey. How 'bout that audiobook?

Eating oranges...the most practical car food. Or not.
 

My little nugget is the best road tripper. And he's a pretty energetic dude. I think it's because we started him off young. Since the age of three or four, long drives have been a part of his life. We've had three big moves in the past nine years; and we have family all over the country.

Lego action figures and all the great noises only a boy can make
 

A backpack full of his favorite trinkets, a portable DVD player, and a couple of audiobooks and he's perfectly content in his little backseat nook. Right now we are knee deep in The Hunger Games while discussing the social implications of being a voyeuristic society. We're really deep.

Thanks to Yelp, we kept up our tradition of dining at only the best local eateries. This place was so cool! You sit at a counter that has an old diner feel . . . but it is all outside.

 

I had the "Large Marge." There was grilled turkey under the cheese and bacon. And the onion rings, well, onions are a vegetable.

 

Freshly brewed root beer. Yuck. I mean yuuummy.

 

My pick was Midnight Train To Georgia. Jared picked Johnny B. Goode. "You know, the song from Back to the Future."

That's all for now. It's past my bedtime. More from the road tomorrow. Nighty night, friends.

 

Road Trippin'

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

I love Scooby-Doo. A lot. So when I saw the opportunity to refer to him in a title, I took it. But this post has nothing to do with Velma, Shaggy, Fred or Daphne. Or cartoons. If I can find a way to spend an entire post on the Scoobster, I will. You won't hear about him again in this one, though. I think.

I have wanted to drive a Jeep since the age of six. How many things can you honestly say you still love 26 years later? Besides Scooby-Doo, of course. Oops. I broke my promise. What I'm trying to say is, six year old me had really good taste. One day I still intend to own one. A Jeep, that is. I think it all started when I watched my favorite show, Danger Bay, on the Disney channel when I was little.

The main character, Dr. Grant Roberts, drove around Vancouver, B.C. in this beauty. With the windshield down. While saving the planet. There may have been a crush. I'm getting all hot and heavy just thinking about him. And the Jeep. Anyway, from the day I first laid eyes on them, I wanted to be a Jeep owner. So when, upon arriving in San Diego this week, a Jeep lay before us unclaimed at the rental lot, I decided that Allah, Mother Nature, Budha and the Tooth Fairy all want my dream to come true.

You know how you want and want and want some more only to find that whatever you lusted for wasn't that great once you got it? That didn't happen here. Isn't she lovely? And with only 2000 miles, she's just a pup. It's true love. My husband has been taking her (it's definitely a her...I checked under the axel) on his hour-long commute the last two days. Perhaps from the day we met, he has known that my lifelong dream is to own a Jeep; but he never seemed to share in my excitement. Imagine my giddiness when he came home last night and said, "I love this car. You have to have one some day." She's made him a convert, too. Shazam!

There are some things I didn't stop to consider. One of them being my hair. My locks are difficult on their own, so imagine how gorgeous they look after being whipped around and used as a bug sieve for hours. I'm so attractive. I will definitely have to accept the fact that I will have perpetually funky hair as a Jeep owner. I will also have to learn how to tie a bandana. But she's soooo lovely and I want her noooow.

She did redeem herself by helping me make my face pretty. This was taken at the buttcrack of dawn, so if we can can collectively ignore my recently slept-on face, I'd appreciate it.

Another thing I didn't stop to consider? The fact that I can't just grab a five spot and lock my purse in the car while I run into Starbucks. The windows are vinyl, yo! Even when the top is on, the car is less than secure. The glove box and center console lock, but anything big is fair game. Not that loose items in a car are 'fair game,' but you get my drift. To a thief they might be. My husband and I are driving up the coast for the night and therefore have an overnight bag; so he had to take it into the building with him since I'd be shopping. I think I will just padlock things to the car fixtures in my Jeep.

This is her. The future love of my life. I recently purchased a new car, and one might ask "Uh, why didn't you get a Jeep? Duh. Stop pining and do it already!" Am I the only one that wenchy? Ruh roh, Raggy. Well, my answer is simple: Go big or go home. The whole shebang. I've been wanting this since I was knee-high to a grasshopper. Holy analogies (or metaphors? or hanging participles?), Batman! What six year old girl dreams about what car she will own as a (sort of) grown up? This girl. When I get one, it's going to be perfect. It with be a five speed, have a sunny yellow-orange hue, have 4 doors, and a satellite radio. I'm not sure about the whole folding windshield thing. I don't fancy bugs in my teeth. It will be a reward for reaching my lifelong goals. I will have earned it, and every time I climb in I want it to be a reminder of the hurdles I've had to overcome to get there. Too Dalai-lameass? Sorry. Still, my education and perseverance will have paid for this dream car. Jinkies!

P.S. I want my name to be Velma Dinkley.

P.S.S. I want Daphne's legs.

P.S.S.S. I lurv Scooby snacks. Although I've heard they were ganja treats because it was the 70s and Shaggy and Scoobs were potheads. So no comment, actually.



Jeepers, Scoob!

Wednesday, July 18, 2012

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