Happy Valentine's Day!

Dearest Mr. C, Flynn, Christian, and Cooper-

You have made me the luckiest wife and Momma on the planet and I love and thank you for that.  You will always have my heart and I am forever blessed to have yours.  

Happy Valentine's Day to each of you!

XXXOOO

Dear Santa...

All I want for Christmas is a mudroom.  

It's that simple.  I don't mean to sound ungrateful, like this is more important than world peace, a stable economy or marriage equality, but this is kind of a big deal.  It's only snowed once so far this season and I am already tired of the winter crap and clutter that collects on my kitchen floor from every neighborhood child dressed head to toe in Gortex and Kamik boots.  They are wet.  They are dirty, and now Santa, these "children" are getting old enough that they are sweating underneath all that Gortex and starting to stink.  It's a disaster.  I need a room specifically for the boots, the snowpants, the piles of mittens and the endless hats.  And then there's the gigantic foul smelling hockey bag...

Santa, I need help.

Here is my kitchen floor on any given day from December through April...

Below is the organization system I currently have that I thought would suffice.  Somehow my kitchen looks nothing like this.

Santa, I think I need something a little more heavy duty, such as this.  I like how it's all enclosed.

I would even settle for a slightly upgraded version of what I have.  More hooks are essential for these kids and their coats.

Now we're talking- a full on locker room would be ideal.

Oh yeah...

 Santa, don't you have any elves that work at HGTV in the off season that might be willing to help a Mom out?  

Truthfully, I think this is all it might take.  

Mr. C, don't be surprised if you get a Santa hat for Christmas.  And a nail gun.  And a can of paint.  And about 20 hooks.

Transitions

Here we go again.  


The leaves have fallen, they're all raked up (almost), the gutters are cleaned and the garage is emptied out to accommodate two cars and a snow blower which I am insisting we purchase this season after four years of Mr. C shoveling in the cold, dark early morning hours.  The forecast has been predicted- we might see some flakes on Wednesday or Thursday.  So now we sit and wait...


But I'm still never ready.  It's always a scramble to dig out the snow pants and boots on that first snow day, only to discover that they don't fit or we can't find one favorite glove and then that nasty note comes home from school saying, "please make sure your are dressed appropriately for Minnesota weather..."  Well, no shit Edina Public Schools.  I want to send my kid to school in shorts and tennis shoes with barely a sweatshirt to cover his arms when it's 22 degrees and snow begins to fall.  Transitions can be difficult for some...


That first snowfall of the season is fun, exciting, even beautiful, but I'm never thrilled to have that winter curtain drop announcing the inevitable shut-in.  I am not one of those to bundle up and go for a run around the lake (torture!) or snowshoe through the snowy drifts of some desolate park (peaceful, yes, but I gotta say, "boring!").  No thank you.  I prefer to sit by the fire with a nice glass of wine and wait for it all to melt...for like five months.   


I like the transition from one season to another, in fact when I moved to Northern California 16 years ago (wow that sounds like a long time ago) it was one of the nuances of the Midwest that I missed the most; not having that dramatic change of seasons to mark different places in time on the calendar, and I was happy to return to it when we moved back to Minnesota.  It's just what happens after that transition that I don't particularly care for- that insulating blanket of stark cold and endless snow.  But here we are again, preparing for the inevitable and just trying to enjoy the transition before it's passed.

Afterglow

What can I say?  Grandview Lodge might never be the same again.

  

Words are not enough- very simply "thank you" from the bottom of my heart to the Grandview Gang for making the trek in your "Up North Chic" attire to eat, drink, laugh, and dance like teenage fools with me.  You are an amazing collection of individuals that I adore more than you know and I am still basking in the afterglow of my birthday weekend.   I am blessed and thankful to have every single one of you in my life- you truly made me feel special and sent me off to "40" in style.  Thank you!!!

And to you my dear sweet Mr. C, you continue to blow me away each day and I not only love you for your thoughtfulness, kindness and sincerity, but for your unique displays on the dance floor, your ability to piss off bridesmaids, and your talent with Power Point.  I love you!

Thank you!!

xxoo

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!

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.