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.