Monthly Archives: October 2010

Kansan Girls Visit

This photo at the top of White Rock Mountain is proof that we are not still hiking at this very moment.

My friends, S & L, came down for a weekend visit a couple weeks ago, and I still have bug bites as memories. They visited The Shack, we went on a hike, and then played board games until 1 in the morning. A pretty well-rounded time I must say.

When I found this hike, I saw the outlook at the top and knew this was the one. It wasn’t too far south, and you could still get some good views.

Little did I know that you literally had to call upon the native american navigational skills you’ve been studying, because there were moments when the trail disappeared. What, you didn’t study them? Neither did I, and a broken record of “Are you sure this is the trail” questioning ensued.

What. I was nervous! Two of my friends took time away from their busy lives to visit and then I lead them into the woods never to be seen from again?

L registered our names at the trailhead while reminding us what to do if we encounter a bear. I don’t know where I read that you’re supposed to scream, trip your neighbor, then run; but it seemed like sound advice to me. So I dismissed everything L read.

It was kind of warm that day and I was happy to have worn shorts, silently gloating over that fact as S & L changed into pants.

And then it started. Or ended, I guess I should say. The trail, that is.

It ended.

And we had to eyeball our way to what looked like a white rock on a mountain. That meant going through bushes. And bushes. And thorny bushes, and kinda thorny bushes, and not thorny bushes.

My legs got tore up, people. And every so often I would turn around and see…

two smiling faces going through any sort of foliage with ease.

Those smarty-pants.

[let me pause here for awkward laughter as I say, “no pun intended” but you really know that I meant to say the pun and suddenly realize that you’re required to make some sort of noise, so just do a muffled golf laugh and avoid eye-contact]

ahem.

It eventually got so bad, that after finding a map of the trail, yet not being able to decipher which way was north, we took to turning S into a sundial to figure it out.

We kinda just went forward and hoped to see a white rock somewhere. We’d even take a white flower, at that point. Anything white, in fact and we’re followin’ ya.

What we found in the meantime was a nice waterfall….

With remnants of someone’s campfire, complete with homemade chairs. There were only two, so S rolled a couple stones together and formed a third.

We decided to take a breather and snack on fruit and a sip of wine, cheersing to our inate ability to identify plants. For instance, the extremely rare reese’s pieces plant, along with the more common purple gobstopper flower. I know, we’re pretty savvy.

We hiked on and enjoyed streams of sunlight.

Then eventually found a spot to eat our lunch before hiking our way to the main overlook.

On the rock wall, we noticed engravings of various places and the distance away from there.

We followed the arrow and looked up.

Ah, there it is.

Take a deep breath and imagine sitting with your legs dangling on the other side of the wall, and a breeze blowing through your now slightly wet hair. I could’ve sat looking at that view all day.

But we couldn’t. We had to get to our little cabin in the woods before sundown. We don’t know what happens after sundown in these parts.

But I do know what happens at the cabin after sundown. Did someone say hot-tubbin’ time? More exciting than that was forcing L to wear my vintage 1950s swimsuit which I unfortunately did not get a picture of.

Forget Ralphie’s shotgun, the bra on this bathing suit could shoot your eye out. And who knows, maybe it did at one time.. because I’m pretty sure a pistol could have clear, level aim through those puppies.

The night was rounded out by a wine board game, which solidified the fact that I should not get into the wine business. S & L tried their best to help me…

Game card: “What color of wine are you drinking?”

Me: I dunno. Lemme see…. wait… it went down too fast. Ask me again.

But having Anne of Green Gables playing in the background solaced my hurt pride.

The next morning we narrowly escaped getting murdered by Garmin, as the road he took us down turned into a dry river bed. Seriously. But with S’s help, I did a 40 point turn and we made it out.

All-in-all a relaxing weekend with the girls. Thank you so much for visiting, I had a wonderful time!

Garlic Chicken Alfredo Pizza

2 posts a week, this is going to be my goal.

Just returned from a weekend with the sisters, the sister-in-law, and the mother and had a great time. More on that later. At one point, we talked pizza, and how we make it. Carolyn likes her some pizza, ya’all. Well, I realized that I’ve never posted about the yummy chicken alfredo pizza night a few weeks ago.

I’ve finally found a way to make a thin crust that will allow me to eat twice as much pizza without feeling guilty.

It’s called: Rolling Out The Dough.

Here’s the dough recipe, if you’re interested:

  • 1.25 active dry yeast
  • 1 cup warm water
  • 1/2 tsp salt
  • 2 tsp oil
  • 2.5-3.5 cups flour

Dissolve yeast in warm water. Add salt, oil & 2.5 cups flour. Mix in your mixer at medium speed and add rest of the flour 1/2 cup at a time until dough clings to hook and cleans side of the bowl. Take out the dough and knead for a couple minutes, then place in greased bowl, turning to grease all sides of dough. Cover, let rise in warm place (I put it on top of the dryer) for about an hour. Punch down dough, divide in two, and then roll roll roll.

This makes two pizza crusts.

I take a couple handfuls of chopped garlic and spread on dough.

And then drizzle with olive oil. Put in preheated oven at 400 and bake just the crust for about 10 minutes.

While that is baking, I like to boil (yes, I said BOIL) a few chicken breasts. After cooked, chop it up while defrosting some frozen spinach.

When the crust is ready, pull it out, put on the toppings and then pour 1/2 bottle of Garlic Alredo Sauce on each pizza. Do it.

Put it back in the oven for another ten minutes….

And voila. I was too excited to take photos the night of our dinner, so this is my breakfast the next day. YUM.

Fall colors

Yes, she made it over the fence.. right into R’s arms. I think she squealed too. I was *this* close to asking them to hang out with us all day. Just full of laughter they were and a good spirit surrounding them.

We finished up the trail and walked back to the car.

On the way, we spotted this bridge/gate/entrance which I asked R to try out.

And when we finally arrived home to our room, there was a small raspberry birthday cake waiting for us. Yes, we ate it all. Only because we couldn’t take it home and didn’t want it to go to waste. Really. We were being extremely selfless in our actions.

The next day our flight didn’t leave until the evening, which ended up being cancelled and us staying an extra night. If we had known that was going to happen, we’d have rerouted our last hours.

So we drove north to the Vermont/Massachusetts border and walked along the Robert Frost trail. Anytime I think of Frost, I always revert back to my almost collision with the Grandaddy Spider of year 2000’s descendant. He almost got me, but I’ve been on my toes since that fateful day in my basement bedroom. Click here to read.

We started on the paved trail, but after I ran into the woods for a potty break (R had to keep watch for cyclists, and counted down 10 seconds as a couple were coming), I spotted an unpaved trail through the woods. Talk about less travelled!  It was absolutely crucial to do this one and on we went…

…All the way until we found the official Robert Frost Trail mailbox. You know, for you to send letters to ole Bob.

So, I left one.

Hey Bobby, I took the road less travelled a few years back and I’m still itching from that rash. Thanks for that, Carolyn.

I figured he wanted feedback on that poem, you know. Better late than never.

On our way out, we gave one last glance to the Vermont countryside and headed home. We will be back to this part of the country again, you can count on it.

Fly me to the moon.

It really backfired on him, this surprising me with a trip and planning out the major details thing. Because, before, I would do all of the planning and never knew of this state of being called “laid-back.” I just thought that was a synonym for lazy.

Um, no. It’s not. In fact, it’s a synonym for happy and hungry. Because that’s what I was the whole trip.

I knew something was going down, folks, I’m not gonna lie. Everytime I suggested we do something over last weekend, my question was deflected. And R is normally not a planner. So for him to continually push aside someone else’s pre-packaged idea raised red flags.

So did his question to me, “Carolyn, if we were going to go to Hot Springs, what make-up would you bring? No don’t just point them out, pile them up at the end of the counter and leave them there.”

Hmm… so I”m taking it we’re going to Hot Springs. (This shows that I didn’t think R planned ahead even to formulate a hypothetical situation.)

I went to work and R planned to pick me up with our muffler that happens to have an engine attached. When he pulled around, I squealed, “Hot Springs or bust!” and he smiled. All the way to the airport.

I love our airport. It’s so tiny that Economy parking is a car lot away from the main doors. We get excited over things like that.

But he still wouldn’t tell me where were going until the tickets were in my hand. And then they were.

New England! I squealed (again). We had been wanting to go up there for a while now, and this was just perfect timing….with the leaves and all.

Because I was in that particular state of being (happy – not hungry this time) and everything R did made me giggle. He took advantage, too. Like when decided to change his watch forward an hour by comparing the airline map with the view out the window to determine when the exact time changed.

I think I was delirious.

But I especially loved looking out the window and seeing the moon below us. I don’t think I’d ever seen that before on a flight. Both Sinatra as well as Hey Diddle Diddle came to mind. And after the chicken bacon foot long sandwich I put down prior to take-off, like I was actually training to jump over the moon, I thought the latter was more appropriate.

By midnight we had arrived, and we still had an hour to the B&B. The owner, E, said to come whenever, that’d he’d wait up for us.

When we arrived, there E was. He opened up the door to our very victorian room and I was greeted with a Birthday sign, a bouquet of handpicked flowers, and sherry!

My nasal pitch got so loud, E had to close the door. As he bid us goodnight, he said he had another surprise tomorrow.

I’m liking this place already.

The next morning we ate a big breakfast, wandered around the grounds, got chased by a pit bull, and then I unpacked my suitcase that R lovingly put together. It weighed no less than 65 lbs and literally had my entire closet it in. Out of the 5 skirts and 7 shirts he brought, I decided on an outfit and searched in the pockets for my razor.

Where. is. my. razor.  (!!!)

He managed to pack up the entire Shack and somehow leave one crucial device behind. And considering I hadn’t shaved since 1872, I was in desperate need. I went back down to the living room and tried to find one from that particular year, but they must have just run out.

Seems that even though their legs were covered up by layers and layers of stockings and bloomers and skirts and who knows what else, the Victorian ladies still shaved their legs more often than me.

My first plan of the weekend included a trip to the nearest Walgreens and a shaving in the car. I’m pretty classy.

It was gorgeous out, so R and I took advantage. We went to an open-air museum with a nautical theme. I’ve discovered I’m not a big boat buff. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I really like them while I’m in them, with a floppy hat and a glass of wine. Looking at them and reading about the history of boats, ummm not so much.

So I spent the majority of the time trying to scare R staring at him stone-faced through various windows until he’d catch a glance. Problem is, everyone else looked first before R and I suddenly became known as that weirdo Shining lady.

R spent his time creeping me out by analyzing a doctor’s office shelf. Seriously, what was all that used for. Wait, I don’t want to know.

For lunch, we headed back to downtown Mystic, Connecticut and decided to go to none other than…

Mystic Pizza! I tried to channel my inner Julia Roberts, but could only squeeze out her 1980s bushy eyebrows.

Oh well, I’ll take what I can get. And the pizza was fantastic! I love when something is not so over-hyped that the food takes a beating.

But hold on!R had another outing up his sleeve. We drove to Newport, Rhode Island which has now become my new favorite place to visit.

He had heard of a “cliff walk” that bordered the ocean. It snaked its way in front of the mansions and estates along the shore.

We picked up a couple small bottles of vino and slowly walked along sipping our drinks, holding hands, and wondering what it would be like to (clean) live in those beauties.

Outside one estate, we heard some people rustling in the bushes.

R found an opening in one and went through. I followed closely behind to find…

a couple escapees! It was the butler and the maid making a run for it. Okay, no it wasn’t but they really did want to climb over the fence to join everyone on the Cliff Walk. R and I laughed so hard because the husband was not shy about lifting up her leg to hurl her over. So R stepped in to help.

Do you think she made it?

Stay tuned.