What a Let Down

Tuesday night at 5:50, our phone rang. According to the caller ID, it was our Congressman Matt Salmon. Brian's a registered Republican. I'm a registered Democrat. Sometimes we cancel each other out, but at least we both vote. The point is, we get called by everyone, and even though Brian wasn't home I still answered the phone.

Matt was inviting us to his town hall conference call that would begin in ten minutes. If we had any questions for him, we could press *3 and ask it. So I pressed *3. I waited on the line as a very long-winded Congressman droned on and on about how awful Obama and all his policies are until the town hall began at 6:00 pm. Shortly after it began, a woman interrupted my call and recorded my question. I asked it, and then I asked her if this would take long. Elizabeth had a piano lesson at 6:40, and as much as I wanted my Congressman to answer my question, I really needed to get Elizabeth to her lesson. The woman encouraged me to stay on the line because my question was very high in the queue.

Well that might have been so, but I do believe he saw the subject matter of my question and passed me up for more conservative constituents in Mesa, Gilbert, and Sun Lakes. Sara of Chandler didn't have a chance at getting to speak when so many of his fans were on the line. So forty-five minutes later, I disappointingly hung up the phone and apologized to Elizabeth for making her late for her lesson. I'm sorry I had any faith that Matt Salmon would do the right thing. What a silly girl I can be.

However, yesterday afternoon I called his office because I decided that I would be heard. The intern said he was much too busy at the moment, but she could record my question. Again. I knew I'd never hear from him, so I went to his website and submitted my question via email. I did check the box to indicate that I would like a response, but I'm doubtful I'll receive one. If his office emails me back, you'll be the first to know.

I'll never hear from him, but I hope he heard me. Here's what I wrote:

Dear Mr. Salmon,

Your office called us last night with an invitation to attend your town hall conference call. I stayed on the line for forty-five minutes (as long as I could before I had to take my daughter to her piano lesson), and you may have gotten to my question after I had to hang up or you skipped over it. Either way, I would still like my question to be answered.

In the wake of an incredibly violent summer with several mass shootings, a news reporter shot to death on live television, and the grim statistic of an average of 88 American lives lost to gun violence committed by fellow Americans every day, why do you continue to vote no on closing the loopholes that make it too easy for dangerous people to get guns and why won't you support universal background checks for firearms sales when they are the most effective way to keep your constituents safe from gun violence? The majority of Americans support these common sense changes to our laws, and I respectfully ask that you please more accurately represent us and our views when you vote in Congress. Thank you.

Two out of Three

I spent my day subbing for a general music teacher. As I greeted a kindergarten class at the door, one little girl had a lot to say.

Little Girl: You're pretty.

Me: Thank you.

Little Girl: I like your dress.

Me: Thank you.

Little Girl: Are you having a baby?

Me: No. Go sit down please.

She'll get hers two kids and thirty-five years from now.

Reality Check

Photos don't lie.

Nah, I was just kidding. You know hotels often lure you in with strategic shots, but did you know campgrounds sometimes do the same thing?

They do. And it's hilarious.

As I've mentioned before, I spend quite a bit of free time researching places we can go in our Airstream for the weekend. Arizona has a lot of state parks that look like they'd be fun to explore, so I've checked out Patagonia, Lake Havasu, and Kartchner Caverns so far. These are viable options for some winter excursions. However, most of the parks take their campsite photos in rather lush times of the year, so their photos probably do not accurately show what the sites will look like when we get there in January or February.

See for yourself. Here's campsite #3 at Lake Havasu State park according to their reservation website.

Pretty huh? Love it. Lots of lush trees (for Arizona) surround the site, and the blue water provides a beautiful view.

Well take a look at that same site as shown on CampsitePhotos.com, my go-to site for real photos of campsites almost anywhere in the country.

Is that even the same place? Or how about campsite #14 at Patagonia State Park per their website.

Then here's what it looks like on CampsitePhotos:

Not bad, but still not the same. The first photo makes the site seem isolated and private, but like almost everywhere in Arizona, our wispy trees aren't made for privacy. Or shade.

I realize seasons and times of day certainly have a lot to do with the differences in the photos, but my point is--without sounding like a commercial for CampsitePhotos (though I'd be up for that, guys!)--a person could consistently end up disappointed if they made their reservations based solely on the photos shown on the reservation sites. In almost all cases, doing more research makes for a happier camper.

A New Phase

I don't, and I try not to complain about it even though I can't work out as hard as I used to without my elbows screaming. And I can't run has hard as I used to because of my foot and my back and sometimes my knee. I mean, that athletic side of me was clearly a short-lived phase. I was never into sports while growing up, hated gym class, and am not naturally strong or fast. So yeah, now that I'm not signing up for races or even doing strength training twice a week anymore, I think of those years as a phase.

What a storied phase it was for someone like me, though! I finished several 5Ks, a few 10Ks, some duathlons, then some triathlons, three half marathons, a Ragnar Trail, a regular Ragnar, a full marathon, and I even walked for three glorious days in San Diego. Really, it wasn't bad for a seven-year stretch.

I still run about three times a week, mostly because I don't want to not be able to run a few miles at a time. Some days are better than others, but I can usually make it three miles. I want to be able to run three miles for a very, very long time because being able to do cardio for thirty minutes is an excellent and reasonable base to maintain. And maybe if I'm doing 5Ks at age 80, I might have a chance at winning my age group. Here's hoping.

Lately, my pal Aimee has been considering registering for her second half marathon in February 2016. She asked me to consider it, too. I did, and I decided I'm not going to do it. I like running for thirty minutes; I don't like running for two hours. My last half marathon was fun and had me smiling the whole time. I came within a minute or two of my previous time, so I'm pretty sure I can do no better than my 2:09 average. That's a relatively solid time, but unless I feel I can finish in under two hours, I don't see the point in putting my body through the torture. Unfortunately, I don't realistically see myself breaking the two-hour mark, so I think not doing another half marathon is a wise choice for me. I have nothing to prove and my body gets angry with me when I ask it to do too much, and right now 13.1 miles and all the training that comes with it sounds like too much. If I do want to tackle something more ambitious than my three-milers, I might seek out a doable 10K. I think that's my limit for now.

However, I'm sincerely looking forward to being on the sidelines and cheering on my friends. I think another friend, Janette, is going to run the half marathon with Aimee, and Julie and Kristy Marie will probably run the marathon. I will have plenty of people to watch and cheer for that day, and I'm happy to do it dressed in warm, comfy clothes and drinking my coffee. Go Friends!

Oopsy

Brian took the kids to a cub scout hike this morning. I did my usual run with friends at the park, but I had to rush away from coffee due to a meeting in Scottsdale scheduled for 10:00 am. When I got home from Starbucks, I waved to the neighbors across the street who were working in their yard, parked the Honda in the driveway, ran into the house, and took a shower. Shortly after showering, I answered the phone. It was my neighbor across the street:

Lynn: Sara, I knocked on your door just now. Your car rolled out into the street.

Me: What?! Omigod! Did it hit anything or anyone?

Lynn: No. Mark pushed it back up the driveway, put it in gear, and pulled the brake.

Me: Did I forget to pull the brake?

Lynn: No. It was on, but the car was in neutral.

Okay. Okay. It's true that I'm not a fan of that car and feel it may be past its expiration date, but let's not jump to any conclusions here. I would never purposefully try to hurt it. So that we could get rid of it. Because it's not worth anything. And maybe Brian loves it more than me.

Kidding on that last thing.

I hope I'm kidding!

Anyway, in my haste I made an honest mistake. I normally do put it in first and pull the brake, but I never really thought our driveway was steep enough for that to be necessary. I guess now I know. And after I admitted all this to Brian he said, "I've noticed you never pull the brake on that car hard enough," to which I replied, "Well you might have told me that before your car drifted into the street." So this is really all his fault. Mostly. It's at least even, huh?

No matter. Everything's fine. No one is hurt. No cars were damaged. And hill or flat surface, I'm keeping that car in gear and pulling that brake like a beast.

No. Just No.

Yesterday, I was telling my pal Aimee that when I sub at schools that are designed in the same format as our school, I have a harder time finding my way than at schools that look nothing like our school at all. You'd think it would be easier because I'm familiar with the floor plan, but I've realized that the subtle differences throw me all off. I can't get past them. The office door shouldn't face this way. These bathrooms should be around the corner. Why is the workroom on this side of the hallway? It's like I'm in bizarro world.

And that's how I felt listening to Ryan Adams' take on 1989. He's a talented musician and all that, but I can't go crazy over these covers. To me, they're all wrong. It's like he took the fun out of them and added a huge does of melatonin. As Aimee might point out, song-ruining should be reserved for elementary school talent shows.

I found this one to be the worst. Yawn.

Some Advice

If you ever see an unfamiliar car driven by a person you've never seen before somehow breaking the rules in the parent drop-off lane at school, here's what you don't do:

You don't honk your horn, wave your hands wildly, and scream at her.

Why? Because there's a good chance she's a substitute teacher visiting your child's school for the very first time. She's not not following the rules on purpose; she doesn't know them. Furthermore, the fact that she is in the wrong place at the wrong time is already causing her distress, and you acting like a crazed lunatic helps the situation in no way. Cut her some slack so she can park her car, get inside, and take care of your kids in their teacher's absence.

Thank you.

Lucky Girl

I know I complain a lot about how hot it is here, but I really am happy that I live in Arizona. I love the West, and I love our little city of Chandler. We are a few hours from the high country where there are lots of trees, mountains, and lakes to enjoy, yet our deserts can be just as beautiful. Especially on days like today when the old "Orb of Death" hangs out behind some clouds.

We like to be outside, and being outside is finally starting to be comfortable again. Maybe. Let's not jinx it. In any case, last night I decided that the kids and I would go for a hike while Brian went mountain biking. So I grabbed my 60 Hikes within 60 Miles book that my pal Aimee gave me for Christmas last year, and found a promising looking hike about forty minutes away in Gold Canyon. 

I'm fortunate to have children who are morning people like me, so we got up, got dressed, had a light breakfast, and were out of the house by 6:25 am. As we were backing out of the driveway, I noticed ominous skies to the east, but the rain seemed isolated so I hoped the storms would be over by the time we got there. Halfway there, though, we were caught in some rain and then it was stormy all the way to the trailhead. We had gone quite a ways, and it looked like it might clear up fairly quickly, so we hung out in the car for thirty minutes. Other people were in their cars, too, and after a few groups of hikers and one group of mountain bikers took to the trail, I figured that they knew that really dark cloud was not coming our way so we followed.

We finally jumped out of the car and headed out on the Hieroglyphics Trail, a three-mile, out and back jaunt into a canyon within the Superstition Mountains that contains a masterpiece of Hohokom petroglyphs. Quite simply, it's an easy hike with a sweet reward. The kids really enjoyed it (when they weren't arguing with each other or hitting each other). All our hikes have their moments, but it was mostly peaceful because it wasn't hot, the views were awesome, I brought snacks, and the petroglyphs were cool to see.

heading out even with the stormy skies

We entered the wilderness!
Truly. The sign proves it.

lots of rocks to climb

There were quite a few levels of petroglyphs, and you had to climb them to see them well.
 Everyone did. Not just us. I swear. But we didn't touch the images.

Though we could hear thunder in the distance sometimes, we didn't get rained on and didn't see any lightning. Believe me, I was looking for it.. The trail was a little more rocky than I prefer, but it was a nice hike and a good way to spend a morning with my babies. I'm glad they like to do this with me. I really am lucky.

A Slap in the Face

Before I give you reason to tell me I'm too sensitive, I'll just come out and say that I already know that. I've always been this way, I'm never going to change, and it's something that I've had to deal with all my life. No, I don't like loud noises or strong smells, but what makes most people realize that I'm too sensitive is how deeply I feel things. The only other person who truly understands this is my mother. She, too, is a highly sensitive person, maybe even more so than I. We can tear up suddenly and usually in the worst of places. The more we try to stop the tears, the worse it gets. It's sometimes humiliating to be so emotional, but I have always felt it's better to be this way than the exact opposite.

Another drawback to being highly sensitive (as if the weepiness wasn't bad enough) is that my feelings are very easily hurt. Something can happen that has absolutely nothing to do with me--and it usually doesn't--but I'll feel it as a very personal dig.

I've mentioned before that there's a new group of moms managing the PTO at Matthew's school. They operate differently than my friends and I did, and while there's nothing wrong with doing things differently--a few of their ides are even refreshing--it's just that they do things almost the polar opposite of how we did things. I've listened as teachers complain to me, and I try to appear unaffected and not happy about their complaints of the new board. Because I'm really not happy. Though I'm glad the teachers appreciate how good things were, it doesn't make me happy that things aren't going well for the teachers now. It sounds like they're asking the teachers to do a lot for the PTO when it used to be the other way around. There seems to be a reversal in who works for whom. Like I said, that has nothing to do with me, but it still makes me sad. I think they are trying to do good things, but their approaches aren't always the best.

More personally, I was sad when the new board took the old school t-shirts and turned them into bags. I expected they would order new shirts, but I was not prepared for them to chop up the old ones. I can't even face the display when I'm eating lunch in the break room because all I see are murdered shirts. I chose that design, ordered those shirts, and drove ten miles to pick them up. They didn't like them so much that they had to ruin them? I, and probably many other parents, gladly would have paid $7 to buy an "old" $10 school t-shirt, but I don't want a t-shirt bag. I don't think anyone does, because I haven't seen one person carrying one. Ever. Poor shirts. Poor decision. If their goal is to raise as much money as possible, they could have made more selling discounted t-shirts. And they wouldn't have made me want to cry.

Yes, the t-shirt bags were a shock, however what I found in the break room the other day nearly broke my heart. One of the family cookbooks we made six years ago was lying on a table beneath that t-shirt bag display. I don't know if they cleaned out the closet and found the last one or if someone decided they didn't want theirs anymore, but I saw it sitting there and it was like a slap in the face. I put my heart into that cookbook. I collected recipes for months from the school's families. I edited them. I typed and formatted them. I organized the book, took it to be copied, and then I hand-bound every single one of those 100 books in the school's work room. I'm not trying to sound like a martyr here, but it was a significant effort and it took me a very long time to pull it off. And there the last one sat as though someone had said, "Let's just set it out and maybe someone will take it."

Someone did take it, and that person was me. First, I asked one of the office ladies if she knew why that old cookbook was sitting in the break room.

Office Lady:  Oh I saw that. I'm not sure.

Me: Well, I'm going to take it. Because I worked really hard on that.

Office Lady:  I think you should.

So I did. And I gave it to my friend, Candi, who came to our school the year after we made the cookbook. Though not a highly sensitive person herself, she appreciated the gesture because she understands. She's one of my friends who served on the previous boards, and she gets it. I'm glad she was there so I could get over it.

My Poor Husband

Though I don't think it would be fair to say that I've let myself go, I do think it's fair to say that it certainly looks like I have when Brian is home.

He leaves for work thirty minutes before I do, and at that moment I am usually in the middle of my getting-ready ritual. So when he sees me in the morning I've either just rolled out of bed, gotten out of the shower, still brushing my teeth, or drying my hair. Let's just say I don't look my best.

However, I go to work looking pretty decent most days. I fight hard to make my hair look nice, I put on a little makeup, and I try to wear flattering clothes. But after school, I quickly wash all the school germs off my face, take out my contacts and put on my glasses, change into a comfy t-shirt and shorts, and sometimes, especially if I've spent a day in PE, I take a shower.

What I'm saying is that when he's around, I usually don't look like the woman he married. I look like a tired and sloppy version of her. I wonder if he notices. I wonder if he cares. He never says anything, but he's a thoughtful guy and is probably sparing my feelings. Should I care? Should I try harder? I don't think he's that in to looks. Clearly. So I think I'll just stay comfortable. At least I have the cleanliness thing going for me.

Recommendation

If you want to laugh, cry, and be inspired, then you should read this book. That is all.

This Will Do

I know I can't stop talking about it.

It's just that we're very happy and excited! We're not happy and excited in a materialistic way, though. We just can't stop planning our upcoming big adventures and also our microadventures. We want to go to national parks, state parks, and little campgrounds not too far away simply to get away for weekends here and there. If we had careers where we could work from anywhere, and if I wouldn't have to home-school our kids, I wouldn't mind selling everything except for what we really need and go live in the woods. Then live at the beach the next week, the desert the next, by a lake the next, etc. There's an awful lot of stuff I would be okay with never having to see or deal with again. I wouldn't look at it as running away; I'd see it more as refocusing on what we really want out of life.

But Brian cannot work remotely. And I cannot home-school my kids. Plus, twenty-five feet isn't all that much space for four people, and the Airstream's owners manual specifically says it is not made for long-term living. (Something about the condensation of our breath, I don't know.) So short getaways and longer trips when we can will have to do. For now.

So I spend my evenings researching campgrounds, state parks, and national parks. Currently, I'm looking for somewhere to go in November when Brian's mother visits. She'll take a trip with us. Top picks are Sedona and Joshua Tree National Park. I'm leaning towards Dead Horse Ranch SP in Cottonwood right now for its proximity to Sedona. She's never been there before, and I think she would like the views and the shopping. Joshua Tree looks a little tricky with so many campgrounds being first come, first served, but maybe we can go there in the winter when my parents visit.

I'll keep looking. It's what I do now.

Into the Great Wide Open

I hate to admit this, but one of my biggest fears going into our first trip in the Airstream was that things would not turn out the way I envisioned they would, leaving me to feel nothing but buyer's remorse and a deep sense of regret for spending money in a way we have never spent money before. Thankfully, that did not happen. We had one of the best trips we have ever taken, and the only regret was that we didn't plan a longer trip.

Our journey began at a truck stop. Brian wanted to weigh our rig, the trailer, and the truck to determine how large a load was being carried on each axle and to find out if all the components were set up correctly. It turns out he had it perfect, but the peace of mind was worth the $10.50, the trouble, and the befuddled looks from nearly every trucker watching our family play with their scale. This drive-thru is most definitely made for the big rigs.

Is this thing on?

Yes. Hello. I'd like to weigh my trailer please.

Goodness. We went through the scales three times for three different configurations. He'd run to get the results from the station, and I'd pull everything around so he could make adjustments for the next time through. Though I have extremely limited towing experience (like twenty minutes in an empty parking lot), I'm grateful truck stops are so roomy. In the end all was well, so we filled the tank with gas and went on our two and a half hour drive up the mountain with no problem whatsoever. According to Brian, the Sequoia towing 6000 pounds climbs better than our Highlander.

We camped at a campground about thirty-five miles east of Payson and above the Mogollon Rim. The weather was very cool and a welcome change from Phoenix's oppressive heat. The first thing we did before changing into some warmer clothes was fill up our water tank. Matthew was very helpful.

He continued to help set up camp by lowering the trailer's stabilizers. Elizabeth supervised.

Then we had lunch with a view. At 2:15. Because Mom wasn't thinking and put the sandwiches in the trailer's refrigerator. Mom fail. We're all still learning. Brian had a fail, too, but the Walmart in Payson saved the day and his teeth.

And then...it rained. For six hours. But that was okay because we had a warm and dry place to be. Thank you, Airstream. We got very familiar with the space in that time, so it worked out well. We got things organized, played some games, and rested and relaxed. It wasn't bad.

Matthew entertained us with a puppet show.

I took a nap in the bedroom and woke up to a view of the trees.

Elizabeth read, Brian fixed the lantern, and Matthew beat himself at chess.

sunset view from our dinner table

I heated up potato cheddar soup on the stove for dinner, and we ate it with crusty sourdough bread. It was cold and damp outside, but inside we were warm and toasty and full. Brian turned on the furnace for the night, and though I had a tough time falling asleep because I was afraid of carbon monoxide poisoning, we all got a good sleep and, even better, we all woke up.

The next morning, after a hearty breakfast of eggs and sausage in tortillas or on toast, we headed to Tonto Natural Bridge State Park. What a park! It was better than we had expected. It was the perfect temperature (low 60s) and partly cloudy for hiking. It was so comfortable that we did both the Gowan and Anna Mae trails and were able to see the bridge from all sides. After a picnic lunch we did the waterfall hike which is 120 steps down to a pretty waterfall and back up. It was a great day of adventure.

If you look closely, you can see the kids on top of the bridge.

hiking down the Gowan Trail

It's a cool little cave under the bridge.

doing a little rock scrambling at the bottom of the Anna Mae Trail

a shot from the rim on the way back to camp

That afternoon, we relaxed at our site and were happy to be able to spend the time outside. We had no rain after that first day.

Brian showed Matthew how to chop firewood with an ax. Then that's all he wanted to do.

Elizabeth can draw or color anywhere, anytime.

When we got hungry, I made dinner. The plan was BBQ chicken, but charcoal is tricky and we ended up cooking the chicken on the stove. I found a great new recipe for one-pot mac and cheese where you don't have to strain the macaroni. Not only was it so simple to make in a small kitchen, but it was a big hit with the family. We had the leftovers for lunch the next day. After dinner we had a campfire and marshmallows and good family bonding time.

Thursday morning, we woke up and had another hearty breakfast. I made the same eggs and sausage, but this time I accidentally checked the smoke detector. Good news. It works. Then we hiked from our campsite to the Sinkhole. It's a big hole in the ground that sunk about two hundred years ago. We nature detectives figured that out by counting the rings in a tree at the bottom. Makes sense, no? 

After lunch, we went fishing at Willow Springs Lake. Sort of. Whatever we do with poles and bait shouldn't be called fishing. One of these times, we should read up on exactly what the heck to do because they never catch a fish, and all I do is catch cute pictures of them holding fishing poles. I guess that's okay. Then again, twenty minutes into it Matthew lost his bobber and fetching it was the only thing he could concentrate on for the next hour. It eventually washed up on shore a ways away from us, and while they all did that I sat and watched our stuff. The air got colder, the wind picked up off the lake, and I was freezing my butt off. This, out of all the activities we did, was the least fun. Still, the view was gorgeous.

Back at camp, we used the campground showers to refresh and warm ourselves. The trailer does have a shower, but we're still not sure how long 39 gallons lasts. We conserved so much that we probably had thirty gallons left. Hard to say, but since the free showers were there we used them. It was kind of like how I never used the trailer's bathroom. The campground had vault toilets, so I used those instead. My family thought I was ridiculous, but I declared I would use it only in an absolute emergency. Long ago, GiGi's family farmhouse was the first in their community to have indoor plumbing, but her mother would never use the toilet. "You shouldn't do that in the house," is what she said before heading to the outhouse. I think she and I might have been kindred spirits.

After our hot showers, we had french dip sandwiches for dinner and muffins from GiGi for dessert. Then we bundled up and had another nice campfire.

In addition to improving our fishing skills, we need to figure out camera settings for good campfire shots.

Friday morning we packed everything away, unhooked from our site, hitched up, dumped the waste (not as bad an experience as we thought it would be, actually), and successfully made our way down the mountain and into our driveway. Unpacking, cleaning, and laundering ensued, but it was all worth it.

Overall, it was a successful first outing in our new digs. We are very happy with our decision and our purchases, and we look forward to many more fun adventures as a family.