Sometimes I forget what awesome things we have right in our own backyard (Well, 15 minutes away at the local nature preserve. But it might as well be my own backyard.)
Over-packed, under-planned, and sunburnt with sore feet: that’s how I travel.
We took a trip this weekend, my Mr, his son, and I. We made our way north to the big mitten (Michigan) for a little knitting get-together in a park in Ann Arbor. It turned out to be a fantastic day for it – warm but not too warm, a perfect breeze, plus lots of food and booze and yarn, of course.
That was… pretty much the highlight of the weekend. The rest of the trip ended up being such a huge disaster. I didn’t plan as well as I should have. We never really traveled anywhere when I was a kid, so it’s not like I have a good background in how to plan a trip or anything. I never really sat down and said “ok, we’re here x days, and this is going on x day and this other thing doesn’t open until x time” to really plan things out and just figured we’d wing it (which is really quite the complete opposite of this control freak’s nature).
Yeah. Epic disaster, and I feel like I wasted what could have been a nice weekend with my boys.
That’ll teach me to relax on my obsessive need to plan ever again. Also, I have very few pictures from the whole weekend, which also teaches me that I need to find a better balance between ‘being present’ and taking time to capture memories for the photo albums at home.
(On a brighter note, I took some much-needed time to get some creative juices going and did a quick little redesign on the blog. It didn’t make up for the crappy trip, but messing with code was a bit therapeutic and my mood is a bit brighter now!)
This picture probably doesn’t look like much. But from the knees down, my jeans are soaked.
Today I had a whole new experience: riding my motorcycle in the rain. I assure you it wasn’t intentional. And I worked myself up way too much over it throughout the day, dreading the moment I had to get back on the bike and face the music (or, rather, the raging storms that were blowing across my route home).
It took a lot of courage to get on that bike. And it took even more courage to start heading down the road. And then it took a whole new level of courage to not pull over as soon as the rain drops started pelting my face (Um, yeah, I need a new helmet. This little half one is great for around town, not for longer distances). And you know what? It wasn’t that bad! Nice, even!
On a cool but sunny Saturday we took a little field trip to one of the local maple syrup festivals. It was a lovely, relaxing drive through the countryside, passing lovely little houses and beautiful waters that will be even more beautiful when green hits the trees, and a lovely day to get out of the house. We even spotted a little pick-your-own blueberry place on the way that I’m planning on visiting later this year once they’re in season.
As it turns out, maple syrup? Not really all that interesting. Which, really, I knew that. I’m not a stranger to things such as this. You tap a tree, you collect the clear syrup, you cook it down, filter it out, and then enjoy it on your pancakes. Not really rocket science (OK, the way they explained it sounded far more complicated… but whatever). However, I haven’t ever actually seen it done in person. And besides, how can I resist a chance to get outdoors and in some woods? On a farm of all places? (My niece made a point to constantly remind me that it smelled like horse poop and refused to believe that it was actually a nice smell to me. Maybe I’m weird and just too stubborn to realize it?)
I wish I could say that I came home with a giant gallon jug of local maple syrup. $10 in your pocket doesn’t get you very far with maple syrup, however. And, thanks to our weather this year (the lack of a real winter, in particular) the syrup production is down so I imagine it’s going to go even higher. Maybe one of these days I’ll get my farm with some sugar maples of my own to tap.