The Girl With The Campfire Hair

This past weekend, we went on a family camping trip. Which means, our little family met up with Rav's family (his parents, their dogs, two of his brothers, and our nieces and nephew).

To be perfectly honest, I was not looking forward to a 5 hour car ride and camping with our two kids. I was not looking forward to this trip. But it was the only time we could get away & I thought the break might be nice.

I packed and baked goodies and made chicken salad with a heavy, heavy mind.
In fact, there was a breakdown thrown in for good measure.
A fit of crying, and questioning, and the throwing of hands up in the air.
All the while, Rav let me do it. He watched, he sat quietly, he let me air my crazies out.
And as always, he remained cool. Perfectly calm.
He knows how to ride out storms like a pro.

Once I purged my mental toxins, I felt a little better.
And upon piling in the car, I was even feeling happy.

The set-up of our Ravioli tent city went pretty smoothly considering there were 2 dogs, 4 kids under the age of 6 and one 8 month old.

The evening met with much throwing back of bottled adult beverages, a tidy campfire, and Rav & his brother playing guitar and singing.
And I just sat quietly.
Willing myself to shoo away anxious thoughts.
I talked to all of the kids as much as I could.
I sang to some of the songs as much as I could.
Because with stillness comes the dread, the fear, the questions, the doubt.

Saturday met us with plans to hit a place in town called The Gorge.
Connor headed to Corning Glass with my one brother-in-law and his daughter (my niece).
That left Rav, Gracie & I to head to The Gorge with my other brother-in-law, my sister-in-law, and my other niece and my little baby nephew.
The Gorge was breathtaking.
And the place where I felt life melt away - just a little.
For there were views like this:

Gracie on the left. Cousin royal T. Ravioli on the right.

And this:

This one (above) is one of my favorite pictures that we took at The Gorge. The views were mind blowing.

The girls did such a great job at The Gorge. I was so proud. They did a 2 mile hike with rarely a peep or complaint. Cousin royal T. liked to be carried and Gracie just wanted to stop and look at the water. That was the only time you heard them complain. They took it all in and just had a blast. You could see between them a bond begin to form. A sisterly companionship that was truly spectacular to watch. And you can see it bloom in that first picture I posted of the two of them at The Gorge.

At one point during the hike, I had picked Gracie up and was carrying her. I leaned in and made the most of the moment - being there in this beautiful place with her - and I kissed her sun-kissed head. And as I did, I inhaled. And her hair smelled like campfire. She smelled like home. She smelled so beautiful. I know that I will never forget that moment with her as long as I live. The moment was quick. It was undetectable, really. No one knew. It wasn't marked by fireworks, squeals of delight, or monumental applause. It was for me and her. Though she doesn't even know it happened. I felt renewed there. My daughter who gives me so much - and she doesn't even know she does it.

It may sound cliche and hokey. But it was then that I felt peaceful. It was then that I felt back at center and back to myself. Surrounded by beautiful, natural cliffs, running spring water, and my girl.

My sweet girl with the campfire hair.

There's just one thing missing in this picture. I wish Connor had been there.

Feels Like Forever

Some of you might have noticed that between last night and today, I've been peeking in on your blogs.

We were away this weekend for a mini vacation.
I'm exhausted, but feel a bit better.

I will share details later. But we have a busy day of cleaning up and unpacking ahead.

I just wanted to say Hi and that I'm back.

I can't wait to catch up with everyone.

Postcards From Hoth...

Greetings From Hoth! We wish you were here.

The lush foliage on Hoth. It's indescribably beautiful.

We were so lucky to book our vacation to Hoth during

the peak weather season.

I (Tab) decided to head out of our "villa" on our Tonton (thank you, Jon)

and see the local terrain.

The Hoth skies are heavy with the warm rays of sunshine.

Beauty.

Spending Valentine's Day on Hoth is a dream come true. I have, since I was a wee little girl, dreamt of spending Valentine's Day on a planet of ice.

As a surprise for Rav, I had this wonderful meal all planned out. I figured I would make this wonderful meal that we could sit down and enjoy together. It just so happens that as I was preparing the fresh herbs for the sauce and preparing the tenderloin Voila! - the electricity goes out. Not to be deterred, I find as many candles as I possibly can & am determined to finish this meal....in the semi-darkness.
Yeah, that didn't work.
Despite our meal plans being put on hold, we had a wonderful dinner of homemade Lentil soup (whose effects are "beneficial" in many, many ways - who knew that we'd both benefit from those effects 12 hours after the fact. Gas masks are a must-have. Next time, I'll place them atop of the napkins when I make this soup), a dessert of strawberry shortcake....by candlelight....with the kids.
It may not have been what we planned, but it was an adventure. And we all had fun.
Hoth does have it's good-points. There are just too many to name here. I figured I'd send you all the pictures and let them speak for themselves.

See you in a few days - after we all defrost and thaw.

Stars That Clear Have Been Dead For Years

Not long after waking up this morning, I realized that my Sunday Morning Song of the Moment song would turn into a Monday Morning song as well.
Man, I hate that.

I was struggling with a topic. A fluid thought. I rarely, if ever, can come up with something funny.

Today is absolutely no different. Nothing funny. It wasn't until I sat down just this moment that I think I have something interesting to say. We'll see.

I remember being on an island, not so long ago. Well, to be exact - it was 10 years ago this past August. So, relatively no so long ago. You get my drift.
I had never been on an island before. Other than Tangiers Island in Virginia.

So, I was on this island. And I had become acutely aware of my smallness. The smallness of the island in the vast, vast Pacific Ocean became all that filled up my mind. I had never been so aware of my place in the grand scheme of things. It was frightening and exciting. After my initial shock wore off, I found myself totally immersed in this island. The weather, the smell of the air, the simpler way of life, the food, the sun - you name it, I was all over it. It had never occurred to me that grass could be so green. The sky could be so blue. The air so clean. The water so pristine. Despite all of the human activity, this island seemed relatively unharmed.

It was here, on this island, where I got to 'dance' with sea turtles. It was here on this island that I realized my soul, my spirit was like a breeze. It went wherever it wanted to, whenever it wanted to. I realized that things would never be the same when we left.

The trip had it's faults. Mainly due to human behavior. Some mine. Some that belonged to someone else. The expectations put upon such a place, a once-in-a-lifetime trip were too much for people that could barely walk without stumbling from time-to-time. It had nothing to do with the island. But everything to do with human error, egos, and impending feelings of losing something.

I remember being out on the lanai on our first evening there. After I had come down from my shock/panic attack. I looked up at the sky & it was if I had seen the stars for.the.very.first.time. The sky was a color I have never seen before or since. And the stars that I've looked at my whole life, were a different color and clarity. It was like looking at a diamond in Wal-Mart and then wearing a ring from Tiffany's.

What really struck me was how close the sky and the stars appeared to be. It was almost as if I put my arm up above my head I would touch the sky with my palm. That I could actually run my fingertips along this inky, black goodness and my whole hand would be glittering from all of the stars that had attached themselves as I did this. I had even entertained the notion that I would be able to grab the moon and dribble it like a basketball or use it as a beacon.
This was my ritual. Every night. To look up at this new sky. I wanted to see it everynight, to make sure it was real. And then to drink it in for as long as I could. Who knew that in a place filled with so many sights: jungles, rain forests, volcanoes, locals, beaches, sunsets - something so everyday was what I longed for the most? Here on this island was how the sky should always look. And I wanted that etched into my memory. Something that I could draw on at a later time.

It has been my dream since meeting Rav that we would go there. This is a place I feel we must see together. I want him to experience such a peaceful, all-natural place. I want him to smell clean air and grass that is green because the soil is lush from volcanic ash and clean soil. Not green because of chemicals placed there. This is my dream for us. Something so natural, pure and happy.

I'd like to see if the sky still looks that clear there now. Or if it was clarity I was looking for at a tumultous time in my life and clarity I had found. Even if it was temporary.

**I just wanted to add here that I am heartbroken because I cannot add my own pictures as my scanner has decided it won't let me scan.**

NYC - You Belong To Me, I Belong To You

So I mentioned with my last post that the Ravioli & I headed into The City. We've been planning this trip for awhile, with our friend, Jon. So, some tickets were purchased for a Broadway show, some plans were made....and voila! Into the city we headed. As I said, I used to make pretty regular pilgrimages into the city - years ago. In 1999-2000, I frequented that city more times than I can tell you. The last time I was there (before Saturday) was October of 2002. I was amazed at how much has changed, as well as, how much has stayed the same.

For instance, when you ride the subway, you can tell the true New Yorkers because they are falling asleep on the subway car and awake suddenly, when it is their stop. They just know. And true New Yorkers are always carrying bags. Big bags, small bags, 'Medium Brown Bags' from Bloomingdale's, plastic bags from various previously patroned shops, which now carry their subway reading material and other what-not. And the true New Yorker that amazed me the most was a barely two-year-old little girl. Sitting in her stroller in her eclectic outfit, chatting away with her mommy and, as she's sitting in her stroller, stretches out her legs, props them up on the subway seat & crosses her legs at her ankles....riding on the subway is old news for her.

Manhattan is just amazing. I fall deeply and helplessly in love each time I go back. I consider myself somewhat of a hippie, farm girl. But I'll tell ya what, I would live in NYC in a second if the opportunity presented itself. The endless culture - so vast, so varied - is amazing. The people watching is unparalleled - except for possibly Tokyo (I don't know from first-hand experience). And the fact that you can hop in a subway and be transported to another town - within a town - just amazing. I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE it.

Ravioli & Jon viewing the WTC sight

Our first stop after 'landing' in Penn Station was the subway to Downtown. We took in a quick look at the WTC sight. Ravioli & I did this in 2002, but were happy to take Jon to see it. We walked a bit along the platform, trying to see past the layers and layers of chain-link fence. As we were making our way down the platform, there in front of me were the peddlers of all things fake. Purses, watches, perfume, etc......I have no problem ignoring these people when walking around the rest of the city. However, I was particularly annoyed by their immediate presence at the WTC sight. I felt that it was highly disrespectful...but whateva. That's just my $.02.

The city was absolutely gorgeous yesterday. Central Park, in particular. I wish we had had more time to roam there. But time was of the essence as we had a date with a particular Phantom.






Good food was to be had in Koreatown. Not as great as Cow Town on Main St. in Flushing, Queens (man, I love the 7 train). But oh, well. Gotta take 'authentic' Korean food where you can get it. I have to say, though (and Ravioli will as well) that my homemade Bul Go Gi is right up there with that prepared in a Korean restaurant. I've always said that I was a cute little Korean girl in another lifetime.
I was sad to say goodbye to The City. I have such a hard time leaving. Parting is such sweet sorrow. She has me in her clutches. Inevitably. Forever.

Today, I bear the earmarks of my steamy love affair. My aching legs, the black/gray soot when I blow my nose, the calm, happiness that washes over my face and the spent feeling that envelopes my entire body. (I think I need a cigarette...haha).
Kidding.