Meadows Cabin - Shenandoah National Park

Let me overly romanticize the past: There was a time when I did not live on fast forward. Or maybe there wasn't. Regardless, I believe each age and stage has its unique gifts and challenges. Mine just most often seems to pass in a blur. Alas, this was supposed to the be final episode of back-to-back-to-back planned summer weekends. But this being a full month later, that's not at all how things have gone down. And life won't be unplanned for the foreseeable future. So in this episode, I capture another full weekend. A weekend of camping with 11 friends--old and new--right outside of Shenandoah National Park.

We left Friday after the close of business in no real hurry... which was a good thing because we sat in gobs and gobs of traffic heading West. Usually I-66 cooperates post commuting hours. Usually isn't always though. So we sat and endured. Ate. Sat. Cried. Became frustrated. Endured. Ate. And sat some more. I contemplated walking. But opted for safety in route along the four-lane highway. I tried not to let the how much longer, how much farther, how much more, are-we-there-yet mentalities consume me and gave my car-mates my best self--remembering that we were in no real hurry.

The was a short hike to the cabin, after the forever long car ride. As we strolled up, we were greeted by the rest of our team. It was already past 10:00 pm, but that didn't stop anyone from starting up the fire. A.B.P. and H.M.O. got dinner going just as soon as others had the fire going. The energy levels were low after dinner and a little getting to know one another (for those who didn't). I opted for bed somewhere around there. And was joined by many others. I've been working for a fair amount of time now... and frankly don't feel like I'll ever adjust to just how lame the 40-hour work week makes me on a Friday night... even in the midst of friends.

Saturday was a new day. Full rested, we got up early. Multiple rounds of French press coffee were made and consumed. Then B.A.H. went to work over the wood burning stove, preparing some of the BEST(!!!) pancakes ever and a million pounds of bacon for all. After over indulging, we took off for a hike to Dark Hollow Falls where we enjoyed weather just as perfect as I'd wish for any weekend outdoors. Once we made it to the Dark Hollow Falls, we enjoyed the waterfall (and weather) a bit before turning home.

Boyfriend and I were in charge of lunch, which was delayed until about 4:00 pm due to length of our unplanned hike. We served Braai Brekkies--a grill cheese variation stuffed with red onions, tomatoes, cheese, and chutney and cooked over the open fire. These are a group favorite we've served more than once before. Then we played our own variation of Spoons... with forks. There was throwing and multiple Chinese fire drills involved. Like children, we entertained ourselves for hours. Until we realized it was dark. And probably should get a fire going. And maybe have dinner because why not? At midnight, we celebrated S.N.L.'s birthday with dancing around the campfire. Those in charge of desserts for the birthday (and weekend) did not disappoint.

Sunday was short-lived; after a hearty breakfast of 26 eggs and multiple loaves of toast and far too much cheese to accompany both the eggs and toast, we cleaned up and scurried out of town. And already, everyone is asking: When is the fall trip?

Southern Exposure

Before you realized you’ve lost half your day, I'll give you fair warning. This is an epically long play-by-play of my weekend down South. If you’ve just got a minute, I won’t hold you up. Here’s what you need to know: The preseason ranked No. 8 Clemson Tigers defeated the fifth ranked Georgia Bulldogs at Memorial Stadium, more popularly known as Death Valley. That’s a win for this girl in the brother/sister rivalry. On Sunday, the Atlanta Braves let me all sorts of down at Turner Field. And Monday I got to spend with two folks I adore – my brother, C.D.H., and his girlfriend – and don’t see nearly enough. Along the way, I introduced Boyfriend to my past – friends, college town, etc. – and that meant… a whole lot of Southern exposure.

On Friday night, I met Boyfriend at Union Station for the quick train ride to Baltimore Washington International Airport. He insisted on being eight hours early for our 8:15 pm flight,  for fear of missing the last plane bound for Atlanta, GA of the evening. He really had nothing at stake. I’m not sure I’ll ever understand the urgency in being HOURS early to the airport. As far as I’m concerned, arriving while the plane is boarding is ideal. But I guess that’s a difference the two of us will have to work on. Being extra early meant we had time for a five-course airport meal. I can honestly say that’s the first time in my recorded memory I have had food from the airport. Alas, the sub-par food was made up for in lengthy conversation. It’s really sad that I’ve allowed my schedule to get beyond my control, and now have to consider pre-departure time as 'date time'. So – no surprise – we arrived it to Atlanta late, got our rental car, and arrived at Brother’s place even later. This was opening weekend of college football; I could hardly contain my excitement – the Bulldogs were set to play the Tigers in Clemson. And I was going to be there to kick things off right.

Flashback: This was College GameDay’s second trip to dear ol’ Clemson. Their first was in 2006, during my sophomore year of college. My friends and I camped throughout the night to be front and center inside the magic GameDay parameters. And when I use the term “camp”, what I actually mean is we stood on our feet… in a single file line waiting for the 10:00 am show. To validate all my hard efforts, my then 83-year old grandma saw me on television multiple times during the span of the two, now three, hour program. I’m glad I have her to document my big break the patience I exhibited. J.L.W. and I – shockingly – couldn’t walk after 22 hours on our feet. So instead of tailgating and further amping up for the 8:00 pm start, we found ourselves recovering in bed. By game time, we were ready to take on the Ramblin’ Wreck from Georgia Tech… and another four hours of standing. Ahhh yes, those were the days.

When you stay up too late, morning, especially early morning, comes quickly. And that it did. Before the clock struck eight, Boyfriend and I were on the road to Pendleton, SC for brunch with the R.L.’s before tailgating. My charges – now five and eight – have certainly sprouted in my absence. I could tell you tale after tale of my time with that tribe; they’re brilliant bubbles of goodness. (I’ll spare you a second flashback, for now.) My time with them was cherished. But now I have to focus on recovering; I miss this family oh so much. From there, Boyfriend and I laced up our walking shoes and proceeded to Clemson. To embrace the Solid Orange spirit, we stopped off downtown. There he saw it all – five bars and 13 sub shops. The newest addition: Jimmy Johns. The town of Clemson is clearly moving up, Up, UP. The next stop: Tailgating. Our first mission was to find J.M.M., her husband, and crew in the sea of orange near Doug Kingsmore Stadium. It rained, so we stayed awhile longer than intended. But this ended up being a win as Boyfriend found a fellow Bostonian, from his neighboring hometown, to talk him off his the-South-is-scary ledge.

Then it was on to tailgating with J.L.W. and gang. This was a moving tailgating... allowing me to give Boyfriend a through-campus tour as we migrated back downtown. The insanely overpriced tickets I had seen before my departure were hardly available outside the stadium gates prior to the game. I was not wasting time with the ridiculous price tags and lack of tickets any further. And while it pains me a little still to have missed the opportunity to see the Tigers live, downtown ended up being a lot of fun. Until the bar closed before the end of the game. And we had to evade an oncoming riot.

Flashback 2: In Clemson… on Saturdays – all bets for bars and booze are off at midnight.

(I do think for this particular occasion, all would have welcomed the idea of an open bar serving only water and beverages of the non-alcoholic variety. I suppose that’s not profitable?)

The R.L.’s had us for the night… and graciously Grandma J cooked us yet another elaborate breakfast. We sort of took things easy that morning. And that was OK because it rained all morning/afternoon anyway. In fact, it rained so hard I almost cried behind the wheel (once we did make a move back towards Atlanta) because I was oh so scared navigating the 22 nonsensical lanes of traffic heading South on 1-85. But then when the rain cleared, I still wanted to cry because I kind of missed the South for the epic thunderstorms. I just don’t get that kind of shower in Washington, DC.

Sunday, for a late lunch, we met with E.L.P at Ormsby's. The food was delicious folks, I highly recommend this establishment for those of you in the Atlanta area. After that, Boyfriend and I headed to Turner Field because duh. S.M.S., the darling girlfriend of my brother, got us THE BEST seats. So that was awesome. But not so awesome was the Braves being shutout… by the Miami Marlins… in nine painful innings.  And worse, they gave up – none of my favorites even played. Oh well. The seats were excellent and we dodged (more) rain. Despite Clemson’s win, we were welcomed back in Brother’s apartment… where we did some serious rehashing of Saturday’s events. C.D.H. was slightly comforted by Liverpool’s win over Manchester United but otherwise wasn’t handling the loss so well.   

The final day was a touristy one. We started the day by watching the rain. Because, that’s right, it was raining again… for the third day in a row. Raining hard. My brother lives in a loft with gigantic – I’m estimating 16' x 12' – windows, so I opened them right up and relished in the rain. Then we walked to brunch at Java Jive. That was tasty (and quite filling). And from there, we went to Starbucks. That was an unlikely move considering this was Boyfriend’s first trip to Atlanta… but my brother’s Starbucks is one of 500 of 18000 Starbuck’s with a Clover machine. Have you experienced this yourself? Heaven. In a cup. This joy had a strong and oily depth my coffee-sensitive taste buds had never been exposed to. I'm not going to lie – watching the barista construct your made-to-order cup is half the fun.

Then we traveled up the street for some pretend shopping at Paris on Ponce, a fancy oddities store. Basically, we all wanted everything. And could afford nothing. By this point, the rain has subsided enough for us to take a stroll on the Atlanta Beltline. C.D.H. has been dying to reveal this masterpiece to me for some time now. In a city that demands a car and has 65 streets with Peachtree in the name – not at all confusing, this revitalization efforts exists to connect all of Atlanta's neighborhoods. I was surprised by the number of people out, even on this not so nice day, as we moved up and down the the Eastside Trail. The many bizarre art exhibits lining the pathway provide ample conversation starters. And smells radiating from restaurants backing up to the trail give a happening vibe.

Not having walked enough, we wandered around Piedmont Park’s niceness. That was lovely… and provided us a stopping point for a picture of the Altanta skyline. The last stop was Little Five Points for some window shopping of the Bohemian variety. We paused for smoothies at Arden’s Garden where I proceed to slurp my spinach intake for the year. The four of us made one last pit stop at Publix for subs in route to the airport. So yummy!

It was whirlwind. And there was definitely a lot I missed. But... here's to hoping the Braves make a statement in the playoffs... and I just can't resist making my way down South again real soon.

Three Years

Three years can be an impossibly long time. It can also be the blink of an eye. This all depends on your perspective.

On September 3, 2010, something went terribly wrong.

I witnessed a murder.

I had just turned 23. (My dad turned 52 that day!)  

I saw the darker side of reality – the ‘bad stuff happens’ side. And the sad truth is most of us are not immune to the bad stuff. It usually seeps – or burst in – to every one’s life at one point or another.

There is pain. There is sorrow. Grief. Rebellion. Depression. And so, so many tears of sadness. There is fear. Justifiable anger. Confusion.

My soul experienced a burn. One that buried itself really deep inside my soul.

For so long, I felt as though I had to ‘act’ like a young twentysomething should. Going through the motions was exhausting. Some days it still is. Because when you suddenly lose your luster for life, the relationship with living is tiresome. And when you do enjoy life but do not trust it, you try to control everything on your own. And that is a very big job. But I kept at it.

Until I just could not. I had to quit fighting for control. And when I did, things began to shift. Throughout the course of the past three years, seeds have been planted. Some small. The chance to finish my Peace Corps service in Ghana. Some big. My first 'grown up' job after eight months of unemployment. Some failed. And some rose through the ashes, shining light on tiny bits of new growth. These seedlings were fighting for life. 

They were my hope. They led me to love too generous to deny. And have allowed me to slowly turn my focus back to the good news. To shift my perspective to a place I am comfortable with. 

To borrow a quote from Mitch Albom, I know: “One day can bend your life.” And though it may not be for the better, life will be OK again... and I believe can even be restored to great.

For T.C.M., forever remembered.