Thoughts on Summer...

Yup.  It's that time of year again, and for THE VERY FIRST TIME in my 10 years of having kids, I don't want it to end.  That anxiety I wrote about back in June, you remember, that summertime "what to do with these crazy children" anxiety I was expecting to swallow me whole, proved to be a bunch of nonsense.  

We had fun.  Serious fun.  

My kids water skied for the first time, super successfully.  I water skied, for the second time in my adult life, successfully.  We went to concerts.  We played with our favorite families.  We completed our first serious road trip and are already planning our next.  Mr. C and my eldest climbed a mountain, a friggin' mountain!  And that's how I feel too.  I feel like I climbed a friggin' mountain this summer, hit the summit, took a deep breath and enjoyed the view.  Now that we have launched (no, cannonballed) Mr. C into his 40's, I am ready to join him there myself this fall.  I still remember every birthday I ever had as a kid at places like Davanni's and Cheap Skate and that weird hibachi place in Shelard Park.  And my favorite one of all- my 24th birthday when Mr. C took me to The Cabin for the very first time.  

Now I'm almost 40??  I certainly don't feel like it, but I'm looking forward to it, actually.  All that metaphorical mountain climbing I did this summer has prepared me, and I am ready to cross that line into a new place in my life.  

 I am sitting on the precipice of the Big 4-0 with my legs dangling, and it feels good.  My babies are getting older and will all be in school- their needs are different, they need me differently, and I believe it will be important for them to see me need something for myself.  What that will eventually be, I don't know yet, but I feel like I am looking out on a vista of possibilities.

Oh, and by the way, did you vote today? 

 If not, vote here.  And do it every day until September 9th.  

Every.  Single.  Day.

Thanks.

Are You Tired Yet? Celebration #2

And the celebrating continues...it's getting exhausting, I know, but it was worth it.  My sister and brother-in-law graciously opened up their home so Mr. C and his longtime pals could whoop it up old style as only this oxford shirt clad group could do.  His family was there, my family was there, friends from grade school, friends from college, friends all the way from Minnesota, hell, even his old girlfriend was there (she's lovely, I adore her) with her husband.  It was a special night and one I believe Mr. C will never forget.

Happy 4-0!

The Gang's all here!

Taco truck from Fork Catering in Sonoma County- delicious, creative, sustainable, a serious winner.

There were kids...

and Dad's and sisters.

There were lots of toasts..

And then came the roasts...

There were glamorous girls...

and 40 year old dancing fools.

And then it got late...

and the dancing got worse...

and the white guys started to overbite.

There were a few spills 

but the gang's still here.

Forever.

(all photos courtesy of the very talented Eric Ullman- thank you!)

Mr. C's Big Birthday Celebration Number #1

Now I know I am bouncing around in time here and probably confusing all of you to a great degree, but stick with me, I promise it will all make sense.  I am going to take you back to The Cabin for a moment to share some great grill stuff.  As you may or may not remember, I myself do not use the grill, or in the case of The Cabin, an open fire pit with a grate on it.  Years ago when my sister-in-law introduced her East Coast boyfriend fresh out of Georgetown to the family, he couldn't grill, camping was unheard of, and the woods and the water and all that "cabin stuff", ummm, not really his thing, not because he wasn't open to it, but simply because they didn't do a lot of that out on Long Island.  Well, things have changed and that boy now hikes, kayaks, camps, and lucky for us,  BBQ's with the pros and loves to share what he's learned from the best.

This fella (whom we shall call McD) has since become my brother-in-law and has morphed into a serious meat master.  Our McD is now with Clorox and has taken an otherwise, dare I say, "ordinary" job and turned it into something that is not only daring and creative, but fun, informative and totally groundbreaking.  He really only handles three products, Kingsford Charcoal, Brita Water Filters, and KC Masterpiece BBQ sauce, but has managed to brilliantly promote these products with some of country music's top acts- Kenny Chesney, Keith Urban, Tim McGraw, Zac Brown Band, Jack Johnson, and my oh so favorite band of all time, The Dave Matthews Band.  He has "greened" up their tours with Brita water bottles and held meet and eats before concerts with Kingsford.  McD's creative efforts to cross-promote these products with BBQ masters such as Chris Lilly of Big Bob Gibson's Barb-B-Q in Decatur, Alabama have taken him to BBQ championships (competing against Minnesota's own BBQ master, Famous Dave), food and wine festivals, the Country Music Awards, The Grammy's, Sundance Film Festival, and on and on.  
All in a day's work, I suppose.  How do I get a job like that?

So bringing this all back around and what these lemons are all about, is that for Mr. C's Big Birthday Celebration Number #1, McD patiently, lovingly, and carefully prepared one of the best meals we have had at The Cabin.   While we were off swimming, fishing and frolicking in the Sierra sun, McD was literally at The Cabin all day cutting and grilling lemons for what he calls Grilled Lemonade (I renamed it Dirty Lemonade), dry rubbing ribs (with Big Bob Gibson's dry rub, of course), then smoking them, grilling them a little, then smothering them in KC Masterpiece's sauce and placing them on the grill for a little longer.  I think this is the way it all works, but there may have been a Dirty Lemonade or two in there somewhere so forgive me if I miss a step.  Whenever McD is asked what the key to good BBQ is, he replies with a matter-of-fact response, "Time and Patience".  And he certainly used both when preparing this memorable, delicious, gorgeous meal for our family to share.

McD's Grilled (aka Dirty) Lemonade is a combination of bourbon, a simple syrup infused with rosemary, and sliced, grilled lemons squeezed into a container.  The end result is a totally refreshing, interesting, concoction of sweet, sour, and smoky.  We all loved it.
McD- thank you for sharing your love of cooking, music, family, and fun with all of us- we have certainly learned a lot from you.
Cheers!

Hold the Phones

What just a minute. 

Most Valuable Minnesota Blogger? 

Huh? What? Seriously? 

What does that mean, you say? It means I was nominated (I've got friends in pretty high places) in the Lifestyle category for the Most Valuable Minnesota Blogger!!!

It also means you need to click here and vote for me. 

Go ahead, I dare you. 

I am up against some pretty tough subjects (cats and God being two of them) so I am most definitely going to need all the votes I can get. 

In case you didn't click up there, simply click here. It's pretty easy, go ahead, I double dare you.

We're Back!!

Don't we look just like The Griswold's?

We did it. We survived the Great American Family Roadtrip. We did not kill each other, our children, or any innocent bystanders along the way. And do I dare say, we actually had fun??

We saw rolling plains, majestic mountains, shooting (sort of) geysers, glacial lakes, and national parks.  We experienced marginal motels and luxurious resorts, listened to countless hours of The Grateful Dead station on SIRIUS Radio (the driver's choice), and an unbelievable log of good times. Really. 

There is something about the good 'ole American road trip that everyone should experience at least once in their lifetime.  I'm not sure exactly what that is, if for nothing more than bragging rights, but traveling the country by car is quite an experience, especially with three boys under the age of ten. I won't give you all the details, only the highlights and maybe a couple of the now hysterical low lights (nearly running out of gas in the middle of nowhere. Twice, but whose counting), but all in all it was a super amazing time that none of us will ever forget.

Old Faithful

After our Wienerwagon sighting in South Dakota along with countless Harley's on their way to Sturgis we pushed into Wyoming for a visit to Yellowstone and Teton National Parks.  Now folks, I gotta go out on a limb here. I believe that Yellowstone is the number one visited park in the United States, but I really don't get why. For those of you that have not been there, avert your eyes to the lower part of this page, because I just don't get it. You drive, and you drive, and you drive some more through windy little roads that on most days are jam packed all to stand around a stinky hole in the ground to watch a bunch of water gurgle (and when I say gurgle, I mean gurgle-the fountains at The Bellagio are far more entertaining) out of the ground.  It's weird.  And it smells.  It's also super crowded and the parking sucks. Unless you are going to be camping (no thank you) inside the park and plan to do some serious hiking I'm not exactly sure what else there is to do. Spot a buffalo or two? We didn't see any. If I am missing something here, please let me know.  This was my second visit to the park and I agreed with Mr. C that it is "something every kid should see" so we paid our $25 and entered the gates.  I certainly didn't want to be the family cynic just because my first visit to Old Faithful was with a college boyfriend who was a major douche bag- douche bag he was, probably still is, and Yellowstone is still boring. 
Mr. C agreed. Moving on to...


Teton National Park. Go south of Yellowstone and try this one on for size. Absolutely stunning, gorgeous, snow capped mountains that fall into Jackson Lake and Jenny Lake and God only knows what else that we didn't have time to get out of the wagon and nod our heads ala Chevy Chase and crew in Vacation. Those Tetons, they were amazing- a definite "Must See."  Take the park all the way into the town of Jackson, Wyoming which is a super cool town that has a touch of that cowboy/chic vibe thing going on. You know, like uber tan women (and a few men) that wear a lot of turquoise and suede year round and look like they just stepped out of the Sundance catalog. Those types. We loved it and were lucky enough to snag one of the last remaining hotel rooms in town at the ultra luxurious, very swanky Painted Buffalo Motel.  It was right off the square next to the Gold Nugget Motel, The 49er Motel, and the Stage Coach Inn. Get the picture?

Boys at the antler arch in the square in Jackson, Wyoming

By this time my brood had traveled extremely well.  I mean, blowing our minds, like "who the hell are these children?, and "we should do this for every trip!!" type of traveling well, but we still had to make it all the way through Nevada. In one day. We dorked around long enough in the parks (damn Yellowstone!) that we needed to make up some serious time if we wanted to make it to The Lake by cocktail hour the following day, which meant a killer 12 hours (to the minute according to the indispensable iPhone) through the Nevada desert.  I was nervous the boys would crack their heads together simply for something fun to do through this endless stretch of dust that lies between the towns of Elko, Winnemuca, and Sparks. Nothing to see except tumbleweeds and faded billboards for brothels and slot machines.  All things the average American kid should experience on a family roadtrip, right?  Wrong, but whatever, it had to be done.

Goodbye Tetons...

Hello Nevada.  This is the pretty part

We treated this nasty, endless stretch of Highway 80 as the Yellow Brick Road to the cabin, so we bit our lips, hunkered down for the long day and soldiered onward. The kids must have been anticipating Grama, the new baby cousin they had yet to meet, and the sunset over Fallen Leaf Lake because yet again, they rocked and at the end of the third day The Tahoe Basin appeared like Oz at the end of that fabled road.

And this was waiting on the door of the cabin...

Gotta love the Googling Grama!

Tomorrow I will tell you all about the ride home, and it wasn't quite as smooth as the trip out...

Fallen Leaf Lake

Out on the road I was reading an article in Travel and Leisure magazine by Dominique Browning when she described one of her favorite seaside towns as, "a delicious, old-fashioned ice cream sandwich of a place. On either end are the rich, luxurious bits. The fun stuff is in the middle, and you have to catch it fast before it disappears."

 To me, this sums up life at Fallen Leaf Lake perfectly.



Emerson Flynn Codding

My oldest boy is 10 years old today.

 I can hardly believe it.  We stared at you moments after we brought you home from the hospital and had no idea what to do with you- we were in absolute, undeniable AWE.  Dad and I looked at one another and like so many parents said, "Now what??!!"  We stared at you, you stared at us, we attempted to eat a normal meal at the table, yet you had other plans for the night.  At 10pm you started to wail and didn't stop until 2am. Were you hungry?  In pain?  Tired??  No, you were just cold, or so we thought. Your Dad wrapped you up tight in his signature swaddle (that he had been practicing for weeks) and put an adorable knit cap with green frogs on your fuzzy head and pulled you into bed close against his chest. There we were- a little family.

 Instantly, overnight, you made us a family.

Emerson Flynn Codding.

 My contemplative, cautious, caring boy. Handsome, soft spoken, and sincere, you made me a Mother and trained me well. Your gentle manner and insightful words often make me stop and pause- you see the world differently than most. You are like a Buddha, taking it all in, churning it around in your head and feeling it in your heart before you comment, before you take a step, before you react. You are the only human I know that can catch a bumblebee, a fly, or a lizard with your bare hands and whatever said creature will let you hold them in your palm for inspection and examination. You are my nature boy- connected to the universe on a wavelength that most are not privy to. You commune with creatures, trees, mountains, and water like some kind of Whisperer of the Woods. You are amazing to watch every day, but especially when you are in your element.

You are a planner, already deciding that you want to go to college in California so that you can drive to The Cabin to spend your summers. You want to be a chef (you are already talented in that department!), you want to travel, you have an amazing joie de vivre for someone who is only 10. You are accomplished (climbing and summiting Mt. Tallac at your age!), steady, stoic, and loyal. Your sense of humor is sophisticated, your musical tastes eclectic (Tupac to The Dead), and your imagination active and amazing.

I love you. We love you.

 I can't believe you are 10. I wish you the happiest birthday my sweet, firstborn Buddha child. Thank you for being my baby, my Flynn.

I love you!!

Happy Big Birthday, Mr. C!

Today is your day! 

 We love you and wish you the Happiest Birthday ever!  Enjoy the almost 10,000 ft. mountain hike with your oldest son today- such a sweet, memorable way to celebrate your 40th and his 10th. 

Keep climbing, keep aspiring, and most important- keep inspiring us all.

Happy Birthday!!

We love you!!

Tales from the Road

1:30 am.

 Mitchell, South Dakota.

"Holy shit! You're never going to believe what I just saw in the parking lot!" Mr. C just finished schlepping our luggage up from the car as I am tucking the sleepy kids into bed after the first leg of our California or bust odyssey.

Judging from his initial shock and excitement I couldn't imagine what just happened in the deserted parking lot of the Kelly Inn.  Aliens, perhaps?  Maybe The Black Eyed Peas stopping for the night on their way to the benefit concert they are giving in Minot, North Dakota?  The Kelly Inn did have down pillows and comforters which I thought was quite something for about $100 a night.   If it was good enough for Fergie, it was certainly good enough for me.

 But no, it wasn't Fergie and the gang.  It was this.

See, Mr. C is not from around here and still marvels at all things that scream "Midwest"- Crock pots, polka bands, the prolific use of "Uff Da" among seemingly normal folks, Sloppy Joes, hotdish, a beer chaser served with a Bloody Mary, the whole hunting culture.  All of these things still stir up mild confusion for poor Mr. C., but this mobile hot dog, that was something entirely mindboggling and quite frankly (no pun intended) without explanation, super weird to him.

"No WAAAYYYY!!!"  I nearly screamed in the dull, flurescent light of our motel room as he showed me the picture he snapped on his phone. The Oscar Meyer Wienerwagon!! The look on his face was an expression of shock, horror, slight disgust and total confusion.

"YOU know what this thing is? Of course you do."

You see, that magic mobile hot dog is based in Madison, Wisconsin and was once the symbol of the most coveted internship on campus at the University of Wisconsin- Madison.  I actually wanted to apply to drive the thing in college for a summer (well, not really, and even then my driving record was not exemplary so I'm sure I never would have qualified) but it was a seriously difficult gig to land. The job went mostly to marketing and business school students at Madison (my alma mater) and honestly I was never quite daring enough to spend a summer away from my friends in exchange for co-piloting a giant hot dog around the Midwest with some earnest ag- business student from Appleton.

But I was quite tickled to run across the Wienerwagon almost 20 years later with my kids in the middle of South Dakota.  And I must say, the vehicle nowadays is way more slick then it used to be- it was hauling ass down the freeway and seems to have some aerodynamic type of sports package.  It actually looked, dare I say, "cool".  We spotted it several times the following day and it was good fodder for killing time on the drive.  After regaling my family with some of these good, clean college tales outloud they were all quite relieved to know that their Mom (and wife) did not spend a summer of her youth driving the Wienerwagon while conducting a Heinz ketchup cross promotion in a Wal-Mart parking lot in Omaha. 

"Soooo embarrassing!!!"

 I read that it is now a year long paid position for any college graduate.... I think I might put my resume together.

(PS- I do not know how to put that little accent thing over the word "resume" on my laptop.  Just wanted to let you know that I know it goes there.)

　

Vacation

I think I might be married to Clark W. Griswold. 

Tonight we head out on a vacation like none we have ever taken- an almost cross country road trip to California. 

No, we're not going to Wally World, but a little slice of heaven known as Fallen Leaf Lake.  Mr. C. has been there nearly every summer since he was born, and I have been every summer with the exception of one, since we met in 1995.  It is a special, magnetic place on the planet where the air seems different and the sound of the wind blowing the tops of the Sugar Pine trees is all you hear when you close your eyes for a swing in the hammock. 

"The Cabin", as it is affectionately known, is rustic and original with red check curtains, kitsch galore, and memories to last several lifetimes.  The bears are frequent guests and the same families have been coming each summer for decades.  Your feet are always dirty, the lake water always freezing (she was formed by two colliding glaciers, after all) and laughter is constantly rolling when Mr. C's family congregates around the fire each evening.  They are a special group and Fallen Leaf is a spectacular, special place.

Note to readers-

We have a Fort Knox alarm system set up at the house and two enormous bodyguards taking up residence while we are away.  And don't forget the watchful, snoopy neighbors; daily workmen coming in and out who are still working on our damn ice dam project; and the two fierce Tonkinese cats who will scratch your eyes out should you even attempt to come near my front door. 

Stay tuned for tales from the road.