this is what they mean by weekend getaway

A few weekends ago, Abe & I had what I think was our first true weekend getaway. We headed 2.5 hours north to a cabin in the middle of nowhere. We had no TV, internet, or cell phone reception - but it did come with a full kitchen, gas fireplace, and puzzles.

Our plan was to cook lots of food, read, and stay in our pajamas as long as possible.

We had Chinese Shrimp and Walnuts one night and Chicken Tikka Masala the next. One morning was an omelet breakfast, the next was classic pancakes and sausage - always accompanied by a mug of hot cocoa.








We put together 2 puzzles while enjoying the view from the dining room window overlooking the lake. We also went on a few hikes.








I think I look 12 years old in this picture.


The cabin was called a "Sportsman's Lodge" and was quite nice. The owl was a good touch.

a commitment to taking more walks

I have been on many pleasant walks. So many, in fact, that I was resolved at the beginning of fall to take more walks.

Two Sundays ago, Abe & I took a mid-afternoon stroll around the neighborhood. I was fascinated with taking pictures of the beautiful scenery.


Abe was talking on the phone with his father.


Meanwhile, the sky looked like this.


We decided we'd better return before the clouds got angrier. The sprinkles started as we were walking down a dirt path back home. Abe was still talking to his dad.

The sprinkles got heavier. We started to jog. Abe was still on the phone ("Uh huh. ... Yeah, that sounds good, dad. ... Sure. ...").

Now it was pouring. And I had taken a wrong turn on the path so we were headed back the long way. Abe was still on the phone, but managed a graceful exit ("Actually, we're running through a rain storm right now - can I call you back in a minute?").

Did I mention that I was in a skirt and sandals this whole time?


The photo doesn't do our sopping selves justice.

5 Years and 40% Chance of Rain

We just got back from a great vacation in Toronto, Canada, but I'm still a trip behind, so more on Canada later, eh?

Two weekends ago we headed out to Traverse Bay and Sleeping Bear Dunes in northern Michigan for a 2 night, 3 day camping trip in celebration of our 5th anniversary. The original plan was to leave Thursday morning, but because I needed another vacation day for Toronto the next weekend, we made it Thursday after work. Even then, Thursday at 5pm found Abe frantically finishing a paper due that night that he'd been working on non-stop for 3 days. His eyes were glazed when I met him at the bus stop, and he said he felt like he was floating. With my editor's pen in hand, I helped him round out the rough edges and get it in by 6:30.

With a late start, we didn't make it to camp until about 11:30pm. Luckily, the camp manager was across the road from us and kept blazing Christmas lights around her camper all night, so we had plenty of light to set up our tent.

We were so excited to be on a getaway together, and to have actually gotten away, that we were determined not to let anything ruin the trip - including the weather forecast of rain until Sunday.


Despite threatening skies, we enjoyed beautiful hikes around the dunes off of Lake Michigan.


Four things to note from this photo. 1) Gorgeous water. 2) Sand you want to roll it. 3) Skyline that looks like we're on the edge of the world. 4) Steepness and length of the dune climb (this is only half of it).


Do we look like we've been camping?


We went on a 4-mile dune hike to the edge of the water. When Abe got there he gathered white and black stones and played a game of "Go" (Ancient Japanese game, still around today, supposed to be harder than chess. Note: I sat on a log and laughed at a piece of driftwood that looked like a bunny. And you wonder why our two family reunions were so different.)


If you noted the cloudy skies in above photos, then you won't be surprised that we hit a rainstorm in the late afternoon. Luckily it cleared long enough for Abe to start a fire out of wet wood (I don't know how he does it, but he can basically start a fire anywhere) and for me to cook up some tinfoil dinners.


It rained all night. This is our tent in the morning, after we cleared our gear out. Look at the photo again. See the water line by the disc? See how it goes all around our tent. It's dry in the middle because that's where our air mattress was. The air mattress and blankets soaked up the rest of the water. While we were sleeping.


It was still raining the morning and we were hungry. This was our solution.


They may have been the most delicious blueberry pancakes I've ever had. Bonus - I got to wear my baby blue jumpsuit, which I stuffed in a paper bag at a local thrift store a few weeks ago when they were having a Bag Sale (everything you can fit in a bag for $5 total).

We don't have any photos of us kayaking and swimming in Traverse Bay, because it never happened. The rain persisted until we drove home late that night. Instead, we showered, drove around admiring the wet scenery, bought blueberries (they were out of the famous sweet cherries), and went out to eat in Traverse City at a bay-side restaurant with a great view and even better white fish and balsamic vinagrette.

In the end, we were both surprised at how much fun we had.

the hello sandwich

Saying hello has never been instinctual for me. One of my goals when I started my job in February was to always greet my coworkers when I passed by their office or saw them in the hall. Still, 50% of the time I regress to the turtle smile - a flicker of eye contact while the corners of my mouth draw straight back to my ears and my lips press together tightly. The veins in my neck probably bulge a little, too, but I refuse to check that in a mirror. Either way, the turtle smile is not exactly a "top of the morning to you".

Sometimes saying hello is genuinely difficult. Two of my sisters and I discovered this while hiking at Zion's National Park a few years back. As the three of us marched single file down the one-way trail, passing or being passed by another hiker, the first person could say hello just fine. As could the last. But the middle one was stuck in the "hello sandwich". They couldn't greet right after the first person because it didn't give the other party a chance to reciprocate, but if they waited an appropriate space of time, they were cut off by the third person.

Solution? Turtle smile. And if the veins didn't bulge before, imagine what happens when you're huffing and puffing along the trail. No wonder so many people would ask just how much longer did they have to go?

You can see how all of this gets complicated when the other party has 3 people in it, too. It's like a Big Mac - the third bun wedged in the middle makes an already uncomfortable experience downright disastrous.

Another problematic greeting situation is the post-appropriate hello. Where you really should have said hello much sooner and are now in the awkward position of either ignoring someone indefinitely or admitting outright to your hello shyness.

Example.

I was at my bus stop near work the other day and saw someone I was sure I knew. But I couldn't for the life of my figure out how I knew this person, and I convinced myself that however I knew them, it was some very awkward context - like someone I had been in a group with in school but didn't get along with. We kept catching each other sneaking sideways glances, until the bus came. Saved!

Imagine my despair when he was at my stop again a few weeks later.

(conversation inside Erin's head)
Just say hello. Do it now, before it gets awkward. You can still say it, there's still time. If you don't do it now, you'll regret it. Just ... Oh, well. Now the greeting stage of social norms is over. You'll have to get his attention first if you want to say anything. Don't look now unless you're going to. You're looking! ...where's the bus?...

Eventually I decided to say hello. Just as I did, I suddenly remembered where I knew this person from, remembered his name, and realized that there wasn't anything awkward about how we knew each other. After I blurted out his name in a rush of desperate enthusiasm, the result was a good conversation, and vastly improved future encounters.

Which is what I told myself this morning, when I finally said hello to the person I've been standing next to at the bus stop near my house for the last 4 months. And which turned out to be true.