The Weekend We Went Zen

Sometimes I think I live to make my husband crazy.

On February 4th, we celebrated 17 years of wedded bliss.  I can only imagine what an eternity this must seem like to Steve, given my ways and all.  And for some reason, he gave me free reign in planning a little anniversary weekend getaway.  For some time now, I've had a great curiousity concerning Bed & Breakfasts.  I thought going to a stranger's home, and staying there, along with other strangers, sounded like a wonderfully horrific idea.  So a week or so before the anniversary, I was googling B&Bs, looking for a good place to visit.  Every single picture I saw online, totally freaked me out.  From hideous wallpaper, to rooms filled with teddy bears, and lace, and doilies, and dolls, ... and GHOSTS, they all looked like my worst nightmare.  Seriously, google haunted B&Bs.  There's a whole website dedicated to it.  Many of them proudly advertise their hauntedness.

Then I came across a place in the Poconos that was modern, beautiful, and non-ghost infested.  They had a whole New Age/Zen vibe, and offered yoga, health-food breakfasts, and organic sheets.  Now, if you don't know my husband, let me just say, Steve and some of the things I just mentioned go together about as well as chainsaws and tree huggers.  But it looked awesome, so I booked it.  And over the next several days, I would slowly break it to him how there was no tv in the rooms, no shoes allowed, breakfast at the same table with strangers, and a special departure ritual of some sort.  But, it was within a stone's throw of a ski resort, so that's why he didn't kill me. Then 2 days before we left, Steve came down with some weird virus that covers you in hives.  I might have been suspicious of this sudden onset of illness, but everybody knows you can't fake hives.  (FYI- That was a joke.  I would NEVER EVER question someone who says they're sick.) He said we could still go if I wanted to, but I really didn't want to take an itchy man to the Poconos. 


The trouble was, we'd already given them our credit card info, and cancellations were not allowed within 10 days of the reservation.  But I sent them this email:  "We are scheduled to arrive on Friday, but my husband has come down with a contagious virus that causes your whole body to be covered in itchy, painful hives.  I need to know what you want us to do.  If we still have to pay, we're still coming."  Within 5 minutes the lady called and said, "Don't come. You can have your money."  So we rescheduled.

We decided to go to the Melting Pot for our anniversary, which was in downtown Philly.  And Steve, of course, said we were taking my car, "Cherry Pie" because he doesn't like for his truck, "The Black Pearl" to go into the city because he remembers what happened on 4th of July when people were throwing icies at our car, and beer bottles were flying by our heads.  He says it's just because traffic is bad and lanes are narrow. So it was $5 to cross the bridge, $30 to park, the meal, and the terror of downtown Philly.  And let me just say, if I'd been driving in the traffic we encountered, I would have pulled over and started crying.  If I'd been alone, I would have also called 9-1-1.

Once inside the restaurant, I wasn't happy with our table, and asked if we could have one of the "cozy tables" and they said you have to request the cozy tables when you make your reservation, but I didn't even know there were icky tables and cozy tables, until we were there.  I explained how in Greenville, SC, all of the tables were cozy, so we'd never had to specify which one when making our reservation. So they did some checking, and managed to get us in to one of the good tables.  Then they brought us some champagne, and we said we don't drink, so then they brought us sparkling apple juice, in a champagne flute, garnished with a strawberry, which looked exactly the same as the champagne, so I laughed about how people who love to spread rumors about our family missed the photo op of a lifetime.  We'd been there 5 minutes, and had already been extremely high maintenance.  They were super nice though, and when I didn't like the mushrooms inside the raviolis, they brought me some different ones.  And I didn't even say I don't like gross mushrooms, but they sensed it.  Steve says I make faces sometimes when I don't even realize I'm making faces.

So finally, last weekend, we made it to the Poconos.  I think we drove straight up a mountain to get to the B&B, in darkness and rain, and once inside, we couldn't find any other human beings.  So we just stood there, sock-footed, and waited for something to happen.  And Steve chose that day to wear mismatched socks.. It was one of those eery moments where you think everyone's been killed, or all the humans of earth have disappeared or something. Finally a lady came out and showed us to our room. And then she was gone, and where she was now, was a mystery.  Hours later I got thirsty and started wandering down the hall, to an upstairs fridge she'd told us about. I couldn't find any lights and I felt like a creep as I was standing right outside of someone's room, in total darkness.  If they had opened their door, I'm sure I would have dropped dead.  I could hear voices, and this was the first clue that there was other life inside the house.  I looked inside the fridge, but there was no water, only soda.  So then I told Steve I needed some bottled water from the truck, but I was too scared to go get it.  So he had to get out of bed, put those mismatched socks back on, go downstairs, put on shoes, get the water, then remove his shoes once he was back inside.  He happily did it because he's amazing.

Hours later, the sun was coming up over the mountain and I noticed you could see for miles down into the valley, and the Delaware River, from the large arched window. Some funny blue birds were frolicking in the trees, just outside. We got dressed as we nervously anticipated our breakfast with total strangers.  It was something we had feared.  We were sure, somehow, it would be very awkward.

So we quietly eased down the stairs and peeked around the corner, into the dining room.  That morning, the conservative Baptist preacher and his crazy wife, sat down next to a male couple from NY, and had a lovely breakfast of puff pancakes with real maple syrup, mixed fruit, yogurt, and granola.  No, the fruit wasn't on the pancakes.  It was served in a glass with the yogurt and granola- sort of a parfait thing.  And I think the B&B lady forced me to eat a second puff pancake.  She was really a high pressure puff pancake-pusher.

And then I told Steve about the Labyrinth.  The labyrinth was some stone formation that you walk through.  It goes on in circles, nearly forever, until you reach the center.  I think it's suppose to calm you, but I didn't find it very calming.  I think it's because we made fun of it, and Steve wanted to cheat by crossing the lines the whole time.  He said it was nothing more than "glorified pacing," which I have to agree is a pretty accurate assessment. We also had difficulty saying "labyrinth" so we made up a new name for it, which I'll just keep to myself.  Sometimes when something bad happens, or if I'm very unusually nervous about something, I like to pace- while praying, or just totally freaking out.  So an at-home labyrinth would be useful when that happens, but I think people would find it strange or think we have crop circles or something.  And then we'd attract weird alien abduction people.

And this was the reward for completing the labyrinth.  You could sit on this bench.

And then everyone left the B&B, and I started snooping through the house. I thought I was just opening a door in the yoga studio, but once I'd opened it, I realized it was a guest room.  Terrified, I closed the door and ran down some stairs!  But then it occurred to me that since no one yelled at me, it must have been a vacant room.  So then I went back up and opened the door a little.  "Hello?," I timidly spoke into the silence.  Again, no one yelled so I waltzed right in. It was beautiful, and WAY better than our room.  It even had an old fashion tub in the bedroom, for those who enjoy relaxing in a pool of tepid water, surrounded by their own floating filth. I'm totally asking for that one next time.

We brought our skiis, but it was almost 60 degrees that day, and rainy. So we drove down to the river, and went on a little hike instead.  There were signs about not feeding the bears so then I was really scared that bears were coming.  I was noticing dry ears of corn that had been nibbled on, next to a cornfield.  Then we saw a fresh poo.  We couldn't help but wonder what had pooped on the trail just minutes earlier.  And I picked up some corn for a free souvenir.

That night I wanted to go to a Thai restaurant that I'd read glowing reviews about.  We'd never had Thai food because we'd never had a good place to go.  The people at the B&B highly recommended this place.  So we went, and when they opened at 5:30 for dinner, people were lined up at the door, and cars started whipping into the parking lot, and we almost didn't get a table!  So we sat down and they brought some multicolored styrofoam looking things to the table and we weren't sure what they were for but then we heard people crunching so we realized it was edible.  I think maybe they were some kind of blown up rice, but whatever it was, it was not tasty.  Then Steve seemed to develop some anxiety, which I thought maybe was because he didn't do the Labyrinth right, but then, like an unskilled ventriloquist, he quietly said, "mmmnoook ooor yyrrr lt shurrdr."  "What??" "Look over your left shoulder."  Casually and slowly, I turned my head, pretending that I was admiring the artwork on the wall.  And then it happened..  Now, I've heard of the "crack of dawn" but this was the "crack of I-just-lost-my-appetite."  I'm not talking about pants that had slipped just a little below the equator. Inside that dimly lit Thai restaurant, there was a full moon shining brightly.  This man, who's jeans had apparently lost an epic battle with gravity when he lowered himself into a seated position, was exposing his entire gluteus region to the whole room. And then we started quietly "cracking" jokes. So many questions came to my mind, "Doesn't he own a belt?", "Doesn't he feel a draft?", "Are we gonna be able to eat?"  Because in the words of the late Whitney Houston, "Crack is whack." 

After we left the Thai restaurant, Steve drove to a McDonald's  drive thru for a double cheeseburger- a meat far more mysterious than anything he could have eaten at the Thai place.

 That night we watched a movie in our room, because they had these big screen dvd players and movies you could bring into your room.  Well they were actually tvs with built-in dvd players, but they just called them "dvd players" because I think maybe tvs were frowned upon. We snacked on cheesy popcorn and fudge we'd purchased that afternoon at a place called "Popcorn Buddha."  I don't know what popcorn has to do with Buddha, but this seemed to be a recurring theme in this small, rural, mountain town. Steve couldn't believe I'd ordered popcorn coated in a greasy, orange, processed cheese powdery substance, but sometimes cravings just come out of nowhere.  We were probably annoying, as we sampled nearly every fudge they had on display, except for the red velvet one, which looked delicious, but ever since I heard that red food dye is often made from bugs, I avoid it.  I'm not kidding.  Look it up.

Does this seem odd to anyone else?

So we had a good time in the Poconos.  What I liked most about the B&B is it didn't have that skeevy, germy feeling that you get at a hotel, and I could see the moon from my pillow. I liked their dog. Also, they decided to not make eggs, since I don't like them. What I disliked the most was the no shoe rule, shortage of washcloths, and the thermostat that controlled our room was located in the cold-natured guys' room down the hall.  We slept with the windows open. I look forward to going back someday, and staying in the way better room I found while snooping.  And hopefully we'll be able to skip out on the departure ritual, just like we did this time, since we had to leave very early.  Because frankly, that sounded weird.

The B&B

I sat at the yellow plate.  Not that it matters to anyone.

Window in our room.

All Because I Needed to Melt Some Chocolate

Days before Valentine's Day, I went into our local Wegman's grocery store to pick up some things and get an early start on finding the kind of chocolate I needed to make super delicious chocolate-dipped strawberries.  Wegman's is, without a doubt, the largest grocery store I've ever visited.  But it seems that since I moved up here I can never find some things because apparently grocers' ideas about where food should be positioned in a store is somehow altered if they're north of the Mason-Dixon line or something. Like garlic, though in the onion family, is sometimes with the tomatoes, and I just stand there, perplexed, in a sea of onions, wondering where on earth the garlic is.  Pine nuts are on the canned vegetable aisle- not with nuts.  The madness goes on and on.  So I checked in the strawberry section... no chocolate, except for some fondue, but it was all wrong.  For strawberry divineness, you must have the chips that you melt, and submerge the strawberry into, and then they solidify minutes later.  This is what makes the magic.  A bite into one of those juicy, chocolatey strawberries creates a taste bud explosion that is unmatched.  It's the pop of the chocolate, then the rush of sweet juiciness. I'm not sure why, but to me, Valentine's Day is synonymous with this whole pop and rush of strawberry.  It's like showing love to my mouth. ♥


So I wandered aimlessly around the store, as I often do, and never found it.  I began to worry that NJ didn't even know about this stuff, kinda like the Mount Olive sweet pickle relish crisis I experienced a while back.  So when I was checking out, I asked the cashier about the chocolate in question.  She knew exactly what I was talking about, and had just bought some in there recently.  It turns out, it's in the bulk candy section.  She told me she had no idea why they only put it there, and agreed that it should be next to the strawberries, for convenience for all the strawberry dippers out there.  I decided since I was already paying for the stuff she'd rung up, I'd just pick it up in a couple of days.  

It's important for you to know, that I'd never purchased anything in the bulk candy section of any store before. I can't stress this enough.  So please keep that in mind as this story continues to unfold.

Two days later, I was back.  We'd just come from church, and I was wearing high heels and needed to pick up a million things, it seemed.  I headed over to bulk candy, where I located the proper chocolates, and I was super stoked to realize they were available in dark chocolate, milk chocolate, and white chocolate, which they say isn't even really chocolate, but whatevs.  I bought some of each.  Having the freedom to scoop out the exact amount I wanted of each one made me feel as though I now possessed some great power. Then I bought other bulk candy items to give the kids for Valentine's Day, and some nuts, and some sprinkles, and some non pariels.  I didn't even know what a nonpareil was, but those sprinkle coated chocolates were about to complicate my life.


Soon I was in the checkout line, and things were moving so smoothly, until the 10 or so bags of bulk candy/nuts/pretzels had made their way down the conveyor belt.  Then there was mass confusion, and the speedy scanning came to a screeching halt.  There was a lot of weighing, then guessing going on.  And at one point, this poor incompetent guy asked if $2.00 was ok for the last 3 bags, total.  I agreed, but as we were walking out, I realized I'd been charged the nonpareil price, for the plain chocolates, which I remembered was a $3 difference per pound.  But before I said anything, I wanted to go back and confirm this was true, so as not to look like a big buffoon at the customer service counter.  Little did I know that ship had already sailed. So Steve loaded up the car, while I walked, or hobbled back to the candy section to pursue the big candy investigation.  My feet were screaming at me to just let it go and go home and convince Steve to give me a foot rub.   But I knew that I'd never know true peace until the chocolate/nonpareil mix up was resolved.


Moments later, I'm standing in customer service with bags and bags of candy, and I explained the whole hoopla about the candy-guessing at the register.  The receipt was such a mess, the guy couldn't even figure it out, so he refunded all the candy, and just started over.  Now, I knew what could happen..  It may turn out that I owe MORE.  And I did all of this just to have to fork out more money, but I didn't care.  I just wanted it to be right.  After 20 minutes of unringing up, and re-ringing up candies, another employee running to check a price, and all the refiguring, they owed me $10.25.  I felt it was well worth my effort to have a smart person fix it.  So I felt that I'd learned a valuable lesson about the bulk candy department-- write down the codes and attach to each product.. or just avoid those tempting, colorful bins of sugar-laden products altogether.

So then Valentine's Day was wonderful, and we ate a million strawberries.

Here's a couple of them that I was snacking on later.

A few days ago, I was back at Wegman's because I needed a bunch of stuff and Noah was begging for more yogurt dipped pretzels from bulk candies, which gave me anxiety.  So I'm shopping and feeling like a genius for easily locating some health food stuff I'd never bought before.  And then I returned to bulk candy..  While I was shoveling some sliced almonds into a bag, I happened to look up and saw a lady doing what appeared to be weighing stuff and punching numbers on a keypad.  What??  I'd not noticed this scale last time. As soon as she was gone, I eased over to it, hoping I'd just totally imagined the last couple of minutes, and sure enough, it's there so you can weigh your food, enter the item number, and it prints out a label to attach to your bag... Then I felt the stupid wash over me like a giant ocean wave on a summer day at the beach- only it wasn't refreshing and wonderful, and didn't leave me afraid that a crab would pinch my toe..

So here are the excuses I've made for myself, to make me feel less dumb:

1.  Steve was with me that night and he didn't notice either.  This is a big deal.  Steve is smarter than me, and has a freakishly creeptastic power of observation thing going on that most people don't even know about.  He's like that guy on that show "The Mentalist."  I jokingly call him a "mind reader," a term he probably doesn't enjoy. I should devote an entire blog post to this.  Though he mostly just uses this totally weird skill for predicting human behavior, he still pretty much knows what's going on around him. And Steve once worked in a grocery store, but they didn't have fancy shmancy contraptions like this.. 

2.  I'm still coming off of over 8 years of living in the backwoods of SC.  You can't just drop a country girl into the Philadelphia/South Jersey area and expect me to understand the intricasies of modern grocery shopping.  And if you live in SC, don't contact me and say, "Bilo and Ingles have those scales too!"  Just let me have this.

3.  Like I said before, I've never been in the bulk candy section before, of any store.  I can't emphasize this enough. And the one at Wegman's is big.  It would be easy to not notice a scale... or 2 scales...

You think it's SO noticeable?

Well what if you were standing HERE?  I see no scale.

But the real question here is, why didn't the cashier or the customer service people just say something like, "You know, moron, if you'd use the scale and print out a label, this wouldn't happen."??  Why aren't there signs on the candy bins that say, "Take your candy to the scale to avoid serious problems." ?

But through all of this, I discovered that I love buying from those bulk bins.  It's not just candy.  You can also buy many other foods- healthy foods.  It enables you to buy the amount you want and avoid the cost of packaging.  I will buy rice, nuts, grains, and whatever else this way from now on.

I hope everyone had a great Valentine's Day. We've been eating strawberries ever since that day, as we seem to turn the entire month of February into some kind of strawberry dipping free-for-all.  Because eventhough Valentine's Day passes, I still wake up and go to sleep every day with strawberries happily floating through my mind. 

Slip 'n Slide and the Magic Carpet Rides

Just a few days ago, I realized I was insane.  It was the day before we were leaving to take the church youth group, and high school kids in our Christian school, to Okemo Mountain Resort, in Vermont, for a few days of Winter fun, fellowship, and nightly Bible time.  I'd been packing feverishly when I realized I still needed to grab the Hershey's cocoa so I could make my super amazingly delicious, somewhat famous, hot cocoa.  I became frustrated when I couldn't find it.  Ever since we moved to Jersey, and into what I call "The Wonder Condo," we seem to be short on space and things get lost in the makeshift pantry, which was intended to be a coat closet.  So now we just drape our coats over the furniture or on the dogs or something.  Soon I was taking everything out, and the floor was covered with canned goods and boxed pasta.  The missing cocoa was a baffling mystery... until I looked up, and saw it sitting in the very front of the 2nd shelf, where it had been the whole time.  Sure, I was happy to finally find it, but now I knew I was facing some serious mental slippage.  And I don't think that's the kind of thing that gets better with time. I took a moment to mourn the loss of my mind, and then I had some coffee.  My new coffee addiction was only a few days old.  30+ years of drinking coffee about twice a year had suddenly become 3 or 4 times a day.  Maybe that was the problem.


So the next day we all piled into a 15 passenger van and headed north.  Another couple from church, Dan and Sarah, drove a truck, and U-haul trailer full of skis and luggage. I'd always wanted to visit Vermont, but never imagined I actually would.  I was so excited!  As soon as we crossed the state line, I began to hum the opening music from that old show, "Newhart."  And then I started quoting, "Hi, I'm Larry, this is my brother Daryll, and that's my other brother, Daryll..." Here's a little clip I found:

The house we rented was the most freakish house I've ever visited.  It was perfect!  There were narrow, winding stairs hidden behind a door, and there were twisty, turny stairs built into the bricks above the fireplace.  I wondered if a trip up those stairs would be hot on the feet! The girls chose the basement level, the boys were given the top floor, and the adults had the middle floor, which we figured would create some kind of impassable barrier betwixt the two.  I'd brought enough food to feed an army!  And it's a good thing, because Ludlow, VT has only one grocery store, and it was closed for the week, for renovations.  Then I realized that Sarah and I had both brought our Keurigs and a massive supply of Green Mountain coffees.  Some of Sarah's hair is purple, and some of mine is still pink, so more and more I'm thinking we were separated at birth or something... except she's young and super thin, and I'm not either one of those things.

Here's the house.  It looks deceptively normal from the outside.

The next day, after the slopes closed for the day, at 4 pm, Steve and I headed down the mountain because I needed some garlic, which no one really seemed to think was a big deal, but what kind of spaghetti sauce has no garlic in it? This was the day we realized that all of Ludlow shuts down by mid-afternoon, even during peak ski season.  So with the town's only grocery store closed and no one else selling garlic, we were soon headed back, when I saw the Green Mountain Sugar House, which I'd been hoping to visit.  They were still open! I was all excited and Steve said we'd stop.  We went in, right at the edge of dark. 


So I was in the sugar house getting all worked up about maple syrup that's fresh from the tree, and learning about the different grades of syrup, and stressing over which grade was right for us.  The lady working there even let me taste some!  Now, I've never liked maple syrup in my life, which might make one wonder why on earth I was so stoked about visiting the sugar house.  Well, it's like this- if there was ever a time in my life, when I might like maple syrup, this was it.  This was the real deal.  And guess what?  I loved it. ♥ So we purchased a jug of syrup, cute maple leaf jars of syrup, and maple fudge. Then I started noticing lots of Green Mountain coffee in their gift shop.  And this was Green Mountain Sugar House.  And then I saw "Vermont Blend." And I was all "Wait... what??"  I didn't even know that Green Mountain coffee was made in the Green Mountains of Vermont.  It was like some strange, powerful coffee force had reached down to Jersey, hooked me with it's delicious caffeinated amazingness, and then pulled me to its frigid mountain home.  I thought it to be a rather bizarre coincidence.

When we came out of the sugar house, I noticed how slippery the steps were.  It had been rainy all day, but I still didn't realize we were now experiencing freezing rain. Then we climbed into the van and headed up the mountain.  Then we got stuck.  We just kept sliding up and down a hill.  Then we were sideways and I was sure we were gonna die.  Then we went back down and stopped at a gas station.  While we waited on our friend, Dan, to come get us, we decided to pick up some bottled waters.  And the whole ground was one solid sheet of ice, and I kept saying, "Steeeeeve!  I can't waaaalk on thiiiis," with a super whiny Southern drawl.  I watched as a brawny looking woman effortlessly walked right by me, carrying a large case of beer, which she hoisted into the back of her 4WD pickup truck. I don't know if her shoes had better traction, or if the locals are just better ice-walkers.  That's when I wished I'd asked for snow boots for Christmas.  I could feel everyone looking at me like I was a fish out of water.  At the register, the cashier informed us that their beer is cheaper than their water, but we said we'd just spring for the more expensive, water.


Soon we were headed back up the mountain, and got stuck again.  Dan attached the front of the van to the back of his Ford Ranger, with some kind of big rope thing, and pulled us up.  I can't believe a small truck can pull a 15 passenger van up an icy mountain, all by itself!  It was one of the scariest things I have ever experienced.  We were just swishing all over the road as we were towed.  And when he would stop, WE COULDN'T.  There was a lot of praying going on, and many stops along the way.  Dan got out one time, and he looked like he was on a moving sidewalk.  He never took a step, but slid from his door, all the way down to Steve's, without ever losing his footing.  I'm pretty sure that hour took years off my life.  I should have had my eyes closed the whole time, but terror forced them wide open.  I'm glad no kids were with us.  And I can't begin to tell you how many times in my life, I've been in a church van, and scared on an icy mountain!  We need a new plan!  But God was good to us, and we, and the vehicles made it back to the house safely.

 One night, we went ice skating, in an open rink, outside.  I felt so happy as I gracefully (ok, sort of) glided around the rink.  For me, skating around on that rough, ungroomed ice, with the wind in my face, felt so freeing. I was so elated, exept a few times when they played gross oldies music, which makes me die a little inside.  Then I skated over to Steve, who was leaning on the wall, on the outside, and he decided to kiss me. Then I said, "Hold on, Steve," and I snatched one glove off my hand, so I could wipe snot off my nose.  Then I said, "Ok, Steve..."  "Nice, Amy...," he replied.  He didn't have snot because he was just standing there.  If he'd been zipping around a rink in 20 degree weather, he would have had the snots too. 


Noah learned to ski.  I really never thought he'd like it.  On the first day, he laid in the snow and cried, then "walked down the mountain."  But on the second day, he got a lesson, and practiced using the "carpet."  The carpet is a lift that you stand on, and it takes you up a small hill, then you ski down.  It's pretty nifty-doodles, really. The kids were all calling it the "magic carpet ride thing." 

Noah

The nighttime shenanigans were no different from what we've seen in the past.  There was scaring, plastic wrap on toilet seats, creepy music sent down the stairs via a phone hidden inside a shoe, toilet paper strung in the wee morning hours, lipstick on mirrors, and spooky games of hide and seek in that creeptastic house.  And for those who know me... no, I seriously was not involved in any of it.  The kids complained about the tapping noises the house makes, which I'd noticed myself one morning, when I was all alone. It speeds up, then slows down, and finally stops. I dramatically suggested that the house was "semi-haunted," with the intention of planting fear in their hearts, but Steve reassured everyone that it was just a LEPRECHAUN running through the house in the night, and when the tapping slowed, it was just him slowing as he reached the last bedroom, and then staring closely at people while they slept...


On the last day, while everyone was finishing up their last hour or so of skiing, Steve and I snuck back into the town of Ludlow, to soak up some culture.  Upon arrival, we discovered a restaurant called "The Hatchery," with a singing baby chick on the sign, so naturally I had to go there.  Once inside, we had a view of the distant slopes, and a menu of yums to choose from.  The food was wonderful, but they didn't give free refills ($2.50 each!) "WHAT KIND OF PLACE DOES THAT?? WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE??," I asked, probably a little too loudly, as we laughed hysterically.  Then we found out they only accept cash payments, so Steve had to walk next door to the bank while I finished up my toasted turkey and apple sandwich, with chunky cranberry mayo, and Vermont cheddar cheese.  We left, shortly before they closed... at 2pm.  Walking down the slush-covered sidewalks was enjoyable, and the views of the ski slopes, which provided a breathtaking backdrop for the quaint town, could be seen from almost anywhere you stood.  A nearby river barely flowed, as it was largely frozen.  Feet of snow covered everything.  Overall, beautiful Ludlow made me feel as though I'd stepped back in time- to a better time maybe.

Here's the restaurant.  It's a singing bird!  Notice the wreath on the door.  There were still Christmas decorations everywhere in Ludlow!

My only complaint about our visit to Vermont, is that I didn't get to see a single stinkin' moose.  What a disappointment! But we had an amazing time and I can't wait to go back.  I hope we can take the youth group again next year, so I can make hundreds of grilled cheeses again, because apparently my grilled cheeses rock.  Praise God there were no serious injuries- just a couple of fractured wrists, which we learned about from this phone call from Noah:  "Hey Dad.  Guess what?  I rode the big lift and skied down the BIG hill!  It was great! ... Oh, and Zack's in the First Aid.."

I thought I'd share my recipe for hot cocoa, to keep everyone warm on these cold Winter days.  I wrote this recipe, but every member of my family on my Mom's side, has their own version of this.  Some use regular milk instead of evaporated, but I like the flavor of the evaporated.  You can use whichever you like, or a combination of both.  This has been my most requested recipe over the years, and I've never really given it out, because I didn't know the measurements.  So for all the people who've wanted it, I finally measured stuff, and here it is.

Super Amazingly Delicious,
 Almost Famous, Hot Cocoa... or Whatever.

1/4 cup cocoa powder

1 cup sugar

3 cans evaporated milk, plus one can of water

1/2 teaspoon vanilla flavoring

Desired toppings

Mix the cocoa powder and sugar in a large saucepan.  Add one can of milk.  Heat until sugar and cocoa are disolved and it starts to boil up.  Quickly add the remaining cans of milk, plus 1 can of water.  Once hot, remove from heat and add vanilla.  If it's still too sweet for your taste, just add a little milk or water. Pour into cups and top with whipped cream or marshmallows, or if you can't decide which, add both, like my son does.  At Christmastime I serve this with a candy cane.  Sometimes I shave chocolate over it too. 

And for those who like to see people fall, I leave you with this.  Watch Kary terrorize both the bunny slope, and the "magic carpet."  Her first victim:  Noah.  Then:  Everyone else.  Funniest starts around 1:40.  Videoed by one of the teens, Amanda.

Now I Can Have Memories!

Most people just GIVE their kids their gifts on Christmas morning, and for the most part, that's what we did.  But before we could reveal the BIG surprise, we decided they had to be tortured a little.

We were visiting family in NC, and on Christmas morning we carefully placed envelopes on the tree, with notes inside instructing the kids to perform various embarrassing tasks, before they could move on to a much needed clue. Each performance was given a "pass" or "fail" and they couldn't move on until each thing was passed.  Yeah, we're horribly awesome like that.

 These aren't extremely creative because we didn't think of this until Christmas Eve, but here's what they had to do:

1.  Run outside to a manhole cover, sit for a moment, and then return, all while shouting, "I'm a princess."

2.  Sing "I'm a Little Teapot," complete with motions.  You'd never know she actually can sing...

3.  Dance to M.C. Hammer's "Can't Touch This."  Just Because.  I'm so glad we did this because we had NO IDEA Noah had these crazy-good dance moves...

4.  Act out any scene from "Monsters Inc."

5.  Walk like Jack Sparrow.

6.  Wrap one of themselves.

7.  Hug their Dad and say, "Oh Daddy, we love and cherish you so!  Won't you please give us the last clue?

Then they were given the envelope with the clue, which read:

 "Riddle me this, riddle me that,
 Your gift is near a picture, where Dad wasn't fat."

(I didn't write that clue.)  So they ran thru the house, screaming, and we heard comments like, "NO... DAD WAS FAT IN THAT ONE." Soon they came running in with the box.  It's become a Christmas morning tradition that Elizabeth addresses Noah as "you idiot" at some point during gift opening. We probably don't do enough to discourage it, but I've never been one to stand in the way of tradition.  Listen carefully and you will hear,"That's what those are, you idiot!" Steve says that is why this clip will never show up in a Disney commercial, but even so, it's priceless. 

The beautiful hats were made by 2 a T Tot Shoppe

 

After the hardest year in the world for our family, this is how we were gonna end it, and begin a new one.

So a few days later, we were in Epcot.  We had dinner reservations at this lovely restaurant, and tickets to the Candlelight Processional after dinner.

And all night, Steve could NOT stop singing, "We're 3 caballeros, 3 gay caballeros, they say we are birds of a feather!"♫ ...because of this boat ride attraction, also at the Mexico Pavillion.  I could sense the stares of others..

And then, we were blown away by the best choir and orchestra I've ever heard.  And the Christmas story was signed, from the Bible, by deaf celebrity Marlee Matlin.  A man interpreted.  It's hard to see her in the following pic, but she's the one wearing red. And I don't really give a flying fig about celebrities and all, but we found out that just 2 weeks earlier they had Trace Adkins in for this, so then I was all devastated that we could have heard his big, deep voice reading, "And it came to pass..."  I wonder if he sang too!





So the day was good, until the fireworks began and Noah had a nuclear meltdown and we had to run out of he park.  They really were the most intense fireworks I've ever seen, AND they set the lake on fire, which you can feel.  We ALL thought it was a little scary at times.  When we got back to the room, the kids and I had several surprises waiting for us, including this:

Chocolate dipped rice krispie treat mouse ears on sticks.  We would later buy more to take home.



AND THEN THE NEXT DAY WAS NEW YEAR'S EVE. 

Ok, Disney World should warn you when you make your reservation with them for New Year's.  Something like, "Just so you know, on New Year's Eve we morph from the 'Happiest Place on Earth' into 'The Unhappiest Nightmare you'll ever experience as long as you shall live."  The Magic Kingdom loses all of it's magic that day, and it's a big free-for-all and a fight to survive.  We had dinner inside the castle which was completely lovely, but then we came out and flowed into the masses.  It was pretty cool for awhile because Disney gave everyone free New Year's hats and noisemakers that I LOVED.  It was loud and exciting. And then Disney World thought it would be a good idea to continue with the usual Electric Lights parade and it took us an hour to find a spot on the street where we could stand without some Disney employee-Nazi person yelling at us for standing somewhere we weren't allowed to stand.  And then the parade was as beautiful as ever.

And minutes later, it was over and the pushing and shoving began.  And tragically, I lost my noise maker in all that commotion. We decided to leave.  And about an hour later, we finally had an opportunity to escape as the glob of people we were stuck in, migrated near an escape route.  Then we saw this cute lizard:

Soon we were back at the Contemporary resort, along with a lot of other smart people, and we watched the fireworks and rang in the New Year from an observation deck.  There were even speakers piping in the sound from the Magic Kingdom, which was good because it helped me to not miss my lost noisemaker so much. Disney has fireworks that explode into the shape of numbers during the countdown!  There's nothing Disney can't do... except close the parks before they are too full.  Anyway, all of the exploding numbers were backwards, so that's what happens when you chicken out, and watch from the resort.  The people who risked their lives in the park saw the numbers correctly.  Being seconds from our room was totally worth watching backwards fireworks though.  They said it was gonna take 3 hours to get everyone out of the park that night.

Here are a few more highlights:

This was a hard day for Elizabeth, partly because we had to take a boat to get there and she gets nervous because she's afraid of sharks that eat through boats to get people. The Whispering Canyon Cafe, located at the Wilderness Lodge, serves more than just this yummy skillet breakfast. They also dish out a little comedy and harrassment with your meal.  Both days we ate there, Elizabeth was the main target.  When she refused to join in the little kids' stick pony rides, she had to hide from the waiter by climbing under the table, where she ate her biscuit, alone.  I would've probably just ridden the stupid stick pony, but whatever. They also made her get up in front of the restaurant and help them lead, "If You're Happy and You Know It." Twice we asked for more syrup, and then they brought us a one gallon jug of it because we'd become so annoying.  They gave Elizabeth a 2 ounce coke. And the main thing you NEVER EVER want to do there, is ask for ketchup, so we just did without.  Look at those Mickey Mouse waffles.  Best. Waffles. Ever. 

Don't let this cute Tigger fool you.  He's evil.

The coolest thing at Disney- Jedi Training Academy.  Noah got to battle Darth Vader!

Wild bird I harrassed.  He was running by this point, so it's a little blurry but you can still see what a grumpy snob this fowl was.

Our favorite ride in all of Disney World!  We rode it 153 times!  Well, probably 8 times.  I love dinosaur violence!



Ohanas at the Polynesian Resort. There are no words for this place. They cook meats over that fire pit, on skewers. Then they bring you as much steak, chicken, pork, and shrimp as you can cram into your body.

Bread pudding topped with ice cream and a bananas foster sauce.  I was shocked to discover that it's the best dessert in the whole world.




For a moment, Elizabeth and I were sad that our family doesn't drink alcohol (ok, not really) because this drink GLOWED.  But I'm sure they could have lit up a Sprite or something...



Bad moods flared when I forced everyone to ride the teacups, because apparently they're really lame.  Not to mention, our family didn't really fit in one cup and there were disagreements about how much spinning should be allowed.  Noah and I are spinners.  Steve and Elizabeth are not.



This was a snail named "Jeff."  Elizabeth carried him around one day.  We really don't know if the shell was actually occupied, but still, he entertained us for hours.

"It's a Small World" is such a beatiful ride.  Steve slept during the whole thing.  Also, I'd forgotten about Elizabeth's fear of puppets when we did this, so she's been telling everyone how it's the scariest ride at Disney...

I can't figure out how she convinced him to join in on the hula lessons.  She only wanted to do it for the free leis.

She's once, twice, three times a lady.

So after years of Noah sadly telling us he had no Disney memories, he now has 5 fun-filled (and terror-filled) days of memories to last a lifetime.  And despite my being afraid on New Year's, and hit with a door, and an ice cart, by reckless Disney employees, it's hard to not be impressed by Disney World.  Do you know, not once was any restroom stall out of those toilet seat protector tissues?  Thousands of people were hitting those restrooms.  Isn't that amazing?