Blind Bartimaeus

Snow! Snow! Just look at the snow!

2012-02-17T23:13:00.000-07:00

When I was a kid, one of my favorite books was "Snow," by Roy McKie and P.D. Eastman. Okay...it's still one of my favorites. I pulled it off the shelf and read it last week.

The entire book is dedicated to the sheer wonder of snow. Snow is fun and fluffy. It can be rolled into a ball and chucked at your brother's face. You can make it into a fort. You can make tracks and pictures on your backs. You can ski down a hill and make a snowman named Ned.

Seriously, if you have a son or daughter, or nephew or niece, or if a friend has a kid or you meet a kid on the street, buy them this book. Then curl up with some hot cocoa and read it to them over and over :).

My small Wyoming town hasn't received much snow this year, but the mountains just 15 miles away have gotten a fair share. Since I was recently given a pair of snowshoes, I've been able to get out and enjoy the snow in a new way.

"Do you like it in your face?"
"Yes! I like it any place."

On our trek for a Christmas tree. This is what happens when you don't have snowshoes.

Went snowboarding/skiing with my friends Jason and Tori. Sure felt good to be on my board again after a year-long hiatus.

Going up...

Snowshoeing in Story, Wyoming.

Making tracks near the summit on Highway 14.

A keyboard doesn't make a very good shoulder

2012-02-07T22:38:00.000-07:00

A keyboard doesn't make a very good shoulder

The other night at work--
as I frothed milk and pulled espresso shots--
I watched a man walk by carrying a present so big
his body was a pink box and his head was a pink bow.
He was on his way
to the pediatric section of the hospital
to welcome
new life.
Life pushing life,
mother pushing baby,
all blue skin turned pink with a wail, a gasp, a flail.

Later--
as I wiped down the counters and washed the dishes--
I watched a nurse walk by
pushing a gurney draped in a white cloth
and an American flag.
Life pushing death,
nurse pushing patient,
quiet and dignified,
pink skin turning blue as the gurney wheels squeaked
and my water polished silver milk pitchers.

Today--
as I edit, write, edit, write--
I watch a childhood friend walk by
in post after post on my facebook news feed:
Amanda is home and under the care of hospice.
Praying for a peaceful journey into the arms of Jesus.
I love you so much and can't wait to hang out again
on golden streets with our Lord!
Prayers for your two beautiful babies.
We love you Amanda!

Today
I watch a friend die on facebook.

She is 30.
Was 30.
She has cancer.
Had cancer.
Our verb tenses will change soon.
Her 394 facebook friends have posted
calls to fight the cancer and prayers to heal the cancer.
We now post our love
and will soon post our memories.
Eventually, I suppose, the posts will stop,
but I find myself wondering if Amanda's profile will remain,
or if my number of facebook friends will one day drop by one?

I understand life when it walks by
in big pink boxes that celebrate new pink skin and loud pink wails.
And I understand death
when I hold its hand or watch it glide by on a gurney draped in Old Glory.
I understand sobs at the side of a real grave dug in real dirt.

But this facebook death,
this checking a news feed to monitor a life,
this waiting in words and dying in words on a screen?

A keyboard doesn't make a very good shoulder.

Welcoming the new year, Wyoming style

2012-01-22T21:51:00.000-07:00

If you live in Wyoming, it's pretty much a given that you eat beef, that you play outside no matter how cold it is, and that you shoot stuff. Since I'm a bit of a pacifist, it's rare to find me with a gun in my hands, but I do enjoy shooting stuff in the sense of sighting through my camera lens and pulling the old shutter trigger. And I do like to play outside...

Thus, as I welcomed 2012 a few weeks ago, I did it Wyoming style: I pitched a tent on our deck in 9-degree weather on New Year's Eve and went to a sporting clays shooting party with a bunch of church folk on New Year's Day. I think 2012 is going to be a great year! How can it not be when it was welcomed marveling at the moon and shooting stuff?

Welcoming the New Year the way I'd like to spend most of it: outside!

The pastor's son, my dad, and our drummer take aim.

Husband and wife. She made it look so easy.

My pastor, on the left, and my third cousin on the right. Both were straight shooters.

Pull!

Go, Daddy-o!

It's his deck and his yard, so he gets the sweet silhouetted shot.

Passing this Wyoming New Year's tradition down from father to son.

Seeing the beautiful

2012-01-12T21:27:00.000-07:00

I posed a question to my facebook friends the other day and was so impressed by the answers I received that I thought I'd post them to my blog since that's what I do with most things that make an impression on me. (Beware doing anything cool with me, or getting robbed with me, or writing me a letter that makes me cry!)

The question, posted at 8:03 a.m. Tuesday, January 10: What's the most beautiful thing you've seen this morning?

The answers, silly, profound, beautiful in their simplicity:

My heating pad. ~Rachel, 8:13 a.m.
The sunrise was gorgeous! ~Sandy, 8:13 a.m.
My wife! ~Ben, 8:20 a.m.
Light snow outside, family still asleep. ~Mark, 8:25 a.m.
My students! ~Eric, 8:26 a.m.
My house coming into sight at the end of my walk. ~Linda, 8:27 a.m.
My coffee. ~Joanna, 8:28 a.m.
Sun streaming in my window, flooding the living room where my two boys are playing... :). ~Sarah, 9:22 a.m.
My new puppy going to the bathroom outside! ~Nick, 9:34 a.m.
Prairie sunrise. Students laughing at my bad jokes the first day of class. ~Patrick, 10:02 a.m.
The cat laying on my chest and purring away. ~Charlynn, 10:03 a.m.
The moon with clouds passing by this morning. ~Chris, 10:10 a.m.
The sunrise. It was one of the best I've seen in a while. So beautiful! ~Sarah, 10:12 a.m.
Fresh snow! ~Kimberly, 10:40 a.m.
Jeremiah's smile and giggle. ~Deborah, 10:50 a.m.
My fiancee. ~David, 11 a.m.
A little grey kitty snuggling with me. ~Elizabeth, 11:36 a.m.
This morning, my answer was the Big Horn Mountains veiled in sun-streaked clouds. ~Hannah, 4:54 p.m.
This afternoon, my answer is the names and faces of so many friends who took a moment to stop and appreciate the beauty right in front of them. This is an incredible list! ~Hannah, 4:56 p.m.
One of my patients smiling. ~Quinn, 10:38 p.m.

This list, these acts of seeing the beautiful in a moment, in a day, is so encouraging to me. Granted, I know the people and stories behind the statements. I was at Ben's wedding this summer; I love his beautiful wife. I know that Patrick recently moved to North Dakota to begin his first college teaching gig. Quinn is one of the youngest, most compassionate doctors I know, and I know he means it when he says he sees beauty in a patient's smile.

But even if you don't know the faces and stories behind these names, I think their list echoes the list each of us could make every day. There is beauty in God's creation, beauty in our loved ones, beauty in comfort, beauty in a job well done, beauty in humanity. Do you see it?

Happy Birthday to a Good Outlaw!

2012-01-04T22:52:00.000-07:00

George Orwell's novel, "Nineteen Eighty-Four," has forever put a negative spin on the phrase, "Big Brother is watching you." But, as little sister to a truly great big brother, I must admit there are many times in my life I was mighty glad my big bro was watching.

There was the time I went hiking as a young girl with my brother and fell into one of Wyoming's car-sized piles of cactus (not really...I'm exaggerating...but only a little). Andy helped me walk all the way home, even though I was bawling like a little girl, and even though I'm sure he would have preferred to keep hiking with his buddy.

There was the time just last year that my car was vandalized and Andy helped me scrub it off even though he was crazy busy with work.

And then there was the time, when I was about six, that Andy saved me from a bully on the bus. This big ol' mean kid was making fun of me, and Andy, a not-so-big pretty nice kid, heard him from a few rows down. He walked up the aisle, looked that kid straight in the eyes, told him to never, ever make fun of his little sister again, and promptly picked the kid up by his neck and bonked his head into the window frame. Then he took my hand and big brothered me all the way into school.

Biblical thou shalt nots aside, Andy's act of childhood heroism encapsulates what makes him such a good big brother--and man. He loves God and humankind and will do what is necessary to protect his loved ones and honor his beliefs about right and wrong, even if it bends the law just a bit.

Andy is what my Grampa would term a "Good Outlaw." Andy is the best big brother a girl could have. And I will love him and fight for him all my days.

Happy Birthday, big brother! I'm so glad you've been watching me all these years. And I'm glad I've been able to watch you become a successful filmmaker and a loving husband and father. Cheers!

Andy with mom and dad. Cute kid, eh?

See, I told you he was a superhero.

Andy wasn't a total saint. I had to kick him around a little.

Me, 4, as Alvin the Chipmunk and Andy, 6, as a pirate on Halloween.

He's always got my back. What this photo doesn't show is that we're standing pretty close to a pretty sheer cliff face in Glacier National Park.

At the premier of Andy's feature family film, "The Wylds." That same film will be releasing as "The Adventures of Chris Fable" in Wal-Mart on January 10. Go buy a copy and support a good outlaw!

Andy becomes a daddy. (Photo by Marianne Wiest).

We love you, Andy!

Top Ten of Twenty Eleven

2011-12-31T20:55:00.000-07:00

I must admit that I am an absolute sucker for top ten lists. Or top five lists. Or top whatever-number lists. They encapsulate many things I like: listing, categorizing, prioritizing, remembering.

Top five things I want to do before I die? Own a coffee shop, live in a foreign country, publish a book, scuba dive with manta rays, play in a rock band.

Top three favorite ways to consume caffeine? Coffee with cream, plain latte, Earl Grey tea with steamed milk.

Top ten best moments of 2011? Well, since you asked...

10. Riding a roller coaster in Wildwood, New Jersey, after more than 15 years of swearing I'd never again ride one. It was definitely a breakthrough. And I even liked it. A nod to Jer for his smooth trickery to get me on board.

9. Making a fancy Easter dinner and enjoying it with my pastor's family. My mom and I decided to go big for this meal. We made a crown roast, which is essentially a rack of ribs rolled into a crown. We stuffed it with apricot stuffing. We made apricot candied carrots and a fancy-schmancy salad. For dessert, I made Oreo cookie salad and a frozen dark chocolate mocha mouse cake. It was a meal we were proud of, but more than that, it was a chance to go crazy in the kitchen out of love for others. Is there anything better than cooking for those you love? It is such a joy.

8. Urban kayaking in Pittsburgh. My friend and I paddled upstream on the Allegheny River from the 5th Street bridge, circled Washington Island, then headed downstream to Point State Park. We rounded the park into the Monongahela River and tagged the Ohio River on our way back. I truly enjoyed paddling in three rivers within two hours and seeing the striking Pittsburgh skyline from our yellow tandem kayak.

7. Jumping on a king-size hotel bed with my best friend as part of her 29 Birthday Wahoos! celebration. We filled an entire weekend with wild and wacky activities--balloons, silly hats, silly string, riding bikes in Wal-Mart--but I must admit I truly, truly enjoyed jumping on the bed. It was one of those beautifully unencumbered moments where you do something for the sheer fun of fun, for the sheer delight of crumpling onto the floor in a heap of laughter with a person you love more than you can express.

6. Fourth of July in Chattanooga, Tennessee. After experiencing a pretty intense situation in the wee morning hours of July 4, I found the beauty, food, coffee, and new friend in this charming city to be a soothing balm for my frazzled emotions. There's something about being alive when you could be dead that makes food and drink taste mighty fine. Thanks to Joel for the restaurant recommendation and the healing conversation.

5. Dinner on the deck with two of my best friends on Labor Day weekend. Sarah and Becky are the kind of friends who fill you with joy by simply being who they are. I say their names and smile because their names are synonymous with grand adventures, uplifting conversations, and sorrows and joys shared. They came to visit me in early September, and we spent our time hiking, coffee-ing, eating ice cream, sauntering through parks, looking forward to the birth of their baby boys (both were in their third trimester), and barbecuing pizza to enjoy on the deck under a starlit Wyoming sky.

4. Coming in at a tie...riding B-Cycles around Denver and eating at Snooze for my 30th birthday in October. I figured turning 30 was something to celebrate in style, so I gathered some of my most favorite people in the world for a weekend of fun in D-town. It was one of my most favorite birthday celebrations ever!

3. Walks and coffee with my mom. I have enjoyed being able to spend so much time with my folks this last year. I have appreciated the many moments of counsel and laughter we've shared. My mom is faithful and practical and loving, and I always enjoy being with her.

2. Climbing Bighorn Peak with my dad. Ever since my first backpacking trip in Alaska, I've been itching to get some gear of my own and head into the hills. My dad joined me in this endeavor, and we enjoyed a couple great trips into the nearby Big Horn Mountains. Thanks for the adventures, Dad!

1. Maria Alana Wiest! I became Aunt Hannah on April 3 when my brother and sister-in-law welcomed their daughter into the world. She is beautiful and sweet-spirited and oh-so-happy. I love her dearly, and I look forward to watching her grow into a woman after God's own heart.

In all honesty, it was difficult to list only ten top moments for 2011. When I think about all the small wonders that fill a day--drinking coffee, chatting with a friend, praying for a missionary, sitting by the fire, gazing upon a starry sky--I feel like I should be able to write a Top 100 list for each and every day. I breathe. I laugh. I move. Even when a day is filled with loss and ache, I am held in the hand of God and can give thanks for His provision of grace.

I hope you can say the same for your 2011. And I wish you a grand new year filled with delights, strength in trials, and an ever-deepening relationship with Jesus. Here's to 2012!

Delight in delight

2011-12-31T14:56:00.000-07:00

I love Christmas! I like baking and hot cocoa and candlelight Christmas Eve services. I like traipsing through thigh deep snow to get a Christmas tree. I love giving gifts. Unlike the young child who gets up before sunrise in anticipation of opening her gifts, I can hardly sleep knowing that soon my loved ones will open the gifts I made (or bought) specifically for them. I enjoy the challenge of trying to give something that will make them smile, something they would never buy for themselves or have time to create. I delight in the delight of my family and friends.

My joy in giving, indeed, every person's desire to give good gifts to friends, family, and even strangers, is a beautiful example of being created in the image of God. If I love giving, God delights in it a million, billion, God-zillion times more. Though it was an immense sacrifice for God to send his son to earth to live, die, and rise to life again as a man, I know He delighted in giving the gift that would draw his creation into eternal relationship with Him. I know He delights in our delight. So may we never stop delighting. May we see with wonder the gifts God gives every moment of every day and give Him our exuberant gratitude in return.  

Our friend's dog, Daisy, leads the way on our hunt for a Christmas tree in the nearby Big Horn Mountains.

This is what happens when you don't have snowshoes.

Our young friends on their first trek into the woods to get a Christmas tree.

Put the tree and the kids on a sled and head on out.

This year's Christmas tree gang.

Hot cocoa and a fire while setting up our tree.

Dad strings the lights.

Reminiscing about my first Christmas.

Voila!

Christmas Eve feast.

My pastor reads a Christmas story to the kids at church on Christmas day.

Your best year yet

2011-12-26T20:19:00.012-07:00

A family friend who is a missionary in Colombia ended his recent Christmas newsletter with these words: Merry Christmas, and may 2012 be your best year yet in your relationship with God! 

What a sweet blessing! 

What a bless-able prayer! 

As I grow older, I find my relationship with God bombarded by doubts, sleepiness, fear, and, most annoyingly, familiarity. 

I've been a Christian for a lot of years now--and been in Sunday School and church even longer--and I sometimes feel a sort of "been there, done that" attitude towards my relationship with God. I mean, I don't feel that way all the time--not at all--but I must admit that I too often ignore God's tugs on my heart to STOP all the puttering and striving and simply spend time with Him. And when I do stop, I too often open the Bible with the hope that something will magically "jump out at me," rather than disciplining myself to study all these passages and stories I've read so often, to think deeply about them and strive to understand in new ways. 

I am ashamed to admit this slacker attitude. I want to hunger and thirst after God and after His word. I don't want to be like those people in Isaiah 30:15 who God admonishes for refusing to find their salvation in repentance and rest and their strength in quietness and trust. They didn't want to bow before their King or sit in the lap of their Savior. They didn't want to listen to their Counselor or trust their tenderhearted Provider. They would have none of it, as it says in Isaiah 30:15. And that was their loss. 

I don't want it to be my loss. And so, I pray 2012 will be my best year yet in my relationship with God. And I pray 2013 will be even better, and so on, and so on. 

And, dear friend, I pray the same for you, whether you have yet to start a relationship with God or have celebrated decades of anniversaries. As author C.S. Lewis described this most paramount of relationships, may we all go "further up and further in" throughout eternity.     

Cream cheesalizing

2011-12-18T21:53:00.000-07:00

I enjoyed lunch with my pastor's family today after church. There were nine of us, and we all ordered personal pizzas. The table was a buffet of toppings: Pepperoni and Italian sausage, Italian sausage and pepperoni, pepperoni and mushroom, mushroom and Italian sausage, Italian sausage and mandarin oranges (mine), mandarin oranges and artichoke hearts, spinach and roasted red pepper, pepperoni and cheese, cheese and cheese (the youngest eater's).

Each person ate differently. There were scarfers, shovers, benders, pickers, and nibblers. Crust first. No crust. Dipped in sauce. Cheese stripped like a blanket from a bed. Sauce licked off, dotting nose and mouth, making smiles extra wide.

Conversation slid the scale from serious to downright silly. Geography quizzes. Work. Travel plans. Death. Mario and Luigi and Wario and Waluigi (I learned something new today!).

Cream cheesalizing.

Verb.

The act of putting cream cheese on a bagel.

"Why not cream cheesing?" I asked my pastor's oldest son when he told me of their family's made-up word.

"I don't know," he answered. "Cream cheesalizing just fit our family, I guess. You could have cream cheesing."

Well, since my young friend offered, I think I will. Cream cheesing will be my verb. But I'll gladly share it, if you'd like. Because, you see, that is the wonder of words. On the page or as sound waves in the air, words can "just fit" whatever situation, person, idea or emotion needs fitting, much like the myriad pizza toppings at lunch today.

Of course, in writing gone wrong or speech that should have been left unspoken, words can also very much not fit. There is danger in words, too.

And I suppose that is why I like words so much. That is why I write. I like the challenge of fitting words to what needs to be said. I like telling the stories of the people around me, the stories of the world. And I hope above all hope that every story I tell and every word I speak--on the page or in the air--also tells the story of God, for from Him and through Him and to Him are all things (Romans 11:36).

Cream cheesalizing.

Verb.

Wheeze the words

2011-12-14T22:53:00.000-07:00

To say I have a serious case of writer's block is an understatement. If there were doctors who cured the ails of writers (lack of sleep, lack of a steady job, lack of income, etc., etc., etc.), I would have to see them all...and then drive eight hours to see a specialist for a second opinion and that magic drug none of the local docs have on hand.

To say this case of writer's block is frustrating is also an understatement. I have resorted to poorly written humor on a public blog just to make something come out, even if I must squeeze the words--

drip, drip--

coax the words--

purlop, purlop--

wheeze the words--

shew, whoo--

out of my brain and onto the page.

I don't know what, exactly, has caused my ailment, but I do know I'll do about anything to make it better. Bring on the chicken soup, clear fluids, rambling posts, blankets, Kleenex, and bad metaphors.

I will write again. And, by golly, it will be good.

(Cue inspirational music.)

I want my heroes back

2011-11-15T20:35:00.000-07:00

I sometimes wonder if we've become a generation without heroes. And, if so, I wonder when, exactly, that happened. When did so many of us decide to turn a cynical eye toward the world and nearly everybody in it? And now that 8-year-olds have mastered the art of detached cynicism, will anyone aim to be just like...someone admirable?

When I was 8, I thought Scottie Pippen was the coolest. I entered a writing contest he sponsored and won a T-Shirt that told me in bright neon letters that I should work hard, dream big, play fair, give my all, go for it. I never once thought those encouragements were trite or hypocritical. Working hard worked for Scottie Pippen, so why would it not work for me?

Was I naive? Or are heroes truly valuable for kids...and adults, too, for that matter? And what do we do when the traditional heroes of old--sports stars, musicians, presidents, astronauts--let our kids, and us, down? Do we need to be choosier about who qualifies as a hero? Or is it better to claim no heroes and avoid the crushing disappointment when they fall?

Maybe heroes are less human and more quality. But how do you, how does a kid, aim to be like the quality of hard work or morality or generosity without seeing that quality encapsulated in a human, in a hero?

I, for one, want my heroes back. I want to have a dozen answers to this question my mom and I were tossing around at breakfast this morning: If you could invite any historical figure (other than Jesus, from ancient or recent history) who has had an impact on your life to share your Thanksgiving meal, who would you invite? Who would you want to thank for the impression, big or small, that they made on you?

I have a few heroes I would invite, but it's less than I'd like, so I'm going to start looking for heroes again. I'm going to look for everyday heroes, and I'm going to work on being less cynical about the people who could be heroes if I'd stop making snide remarks and give them a chance.

And in the meantime, I'm going to work hard, play fair, pump others up, and give it my all. I'm going to leave it all on the court, as they say. And perhaps some other day I'll blog about how much I really, really like sports cliches...

Snoozing on my 30th

2011-11-13T08:00:00.000-07:00

My last post about turning 30 was awfully serious. True. But serious. I was able to indulge in a lot of introspection, a lot of looking back, and a lot of looking ahead, and I am thankful for that. But I also wanted you all to know how much fun I had turning the big 3-0.

My best friend met me in Casper, and we drove down to Denver for the weekend, stopping to see three more of my best friends in Douglas. On Saturday, I met up with a dear friend for coffee and two more best friends came up from Colorado Springs to tear it up in Denver with me. Then, on Sunday, my actual birthday, two more best friends (and a bonus friend who was visiting them) came down to indulge in a morning of Snoozing.

Not sleeping, mind you. Snooze is an a.m. eatery in downtown Denver that serves up the best pancakes and coffee in the world and offers more of an exuberant eating experience than just a meal. It deserves its own verb: snoozing.

We did a bunch of fun, silly things I've always wanted to do in Denver, visited some beloved favorites, and had an all around blast. But even better than that, my heart got filled to bursting with the joy of being with people I dearly love. Thank you, dear friends, for loving me in return and making me feel so special. My cheers go not to another year and long life, but to old friends, new friends, and friends-yet-to-be who give us meaningful years and full lives! Cheers!

Stopped in Douglas to enjoy lunch with Sarah and Becky and the newest addition to my circle of friends: baby Samuel. I miss you ladies terribly. Did my heart good to see you. Also enjoyed seeing my friend, Liz, for a bit. Just forgot to snap a photo.

Met up for coffee with my friend Staci and her kiddos. So good catching up!

Ben and Sarah came up from Colorado Springs. We went to a 3D IMAX. Who knew cuddle fish could cause such jump scares?

We climbed on dinosaurs.

We did lots of silly self-timed photos because I got a Gorilla Pod for my birthday from my parents. A Gorilla Pod is a bendable tripod that can shoot a photo anywhere.

We went to the Tattered Cover Bookstore...my favorite bookstore of all time. It was celebrating its 40th anniversary, so we enjoyed some cake.

Tattered Cover Bookstore. Photo courtesy Gorilla Pod.

This is something I've always wanted to do! We rented B-Cycles, also known as "those red bikes," and rode around Denver.

We pushed our bikes from 16th Street Mall up and over the river and interstate to get to one of my favorite ice cream places on the other side.

You have 1/2 hour to check your bike in at one of 52 B-Cycle stations in the city before you start accruing a larger rental fee. Makes it challenging. Here we are switching out our bikes.

You gotta go here if you're ever in Denver. (By the way, we shot this photo on a hill and I'm on the lower end... And, yeah, I'm short.)

Attached the Gorilla Pod to my bike basket and shot photos and video while riding. Wahoo!

My beautiful bestest best friend, Lindsey. So glad she could join us for this adventure. Loved road-tripping with her and miss her dearly.

Ben and Sarah rocking the B-cyles.

We went to Casa Bonita of South Park fame. Yes, it's real.

When you raise the red flag, your waiter or waitress comes running to see what you need. Raising the flag also means you want more endless sopapillas.

Lins, me, Sarah, and Ben in front of the waterfall that cliff divers dive over.

They juggle fire at Casa Bonita, too. And then they dive off the cliff into a worryingly small pool of water.

The cliff diver's waterfall.

Casa Bonita also features magicians, mariachi bands, and the haunted Black Bart's Cave.

Ahhh, how cute.

The view from our hotel room. And some frighteningly accessible ledges on the side of the hotel.

Part of the Snooze experience is sitting outside on the heated patio, drinking coffee, chatting with friends and strangers alike, and playing board games. We played Trivial Pursuit.

The hustle-bustle of Snooze.

Josh and Christi came down from Cheyenne to enjoy breakfast with us. Soooooo good to see them and enjoy a few hours together. Miss them lots.

Josh and Christi, me, Ben and Sarah, Lindsey. Best breakfast ever!

The addition of Christi's friend Stacy made it even better!

My pancake flight (blue mesa pancake made with corn and topped with chili-spiced maple syrup, blueberry lemon bar pancake, and a pancake of the day with strawberries, chocolate sauce and white mouse) came out with candles in it. Happy Birthday indeed!

Snooze! Friends! So happy!

So long Twentysomethings

2011-11-09T09:38:00.000-07:00

So. I have left my 20s. I am no longer a "twentysomething," that newly-ish coined phrase meant to capture in one word a wide swath of my generation, a group of people, who, on the whole, seem to be taking longer to grow up as we experiment with the myriad of choices out there in the big, wide, wonderful, economically imperiled world.

We have big dreams because we've been told since infancy that we matter, that our self-image is a prime consideration, and that we deserve to be happy because, well, we're worth it. We tend to have big hearts and want our work to make a difference in the world. And a lot of us are smacking pretty hard against reality when we suddenly realize the world does not, in fact, revolve around us. (See Jean Twenge's book, "Generation Me," for more on this topic. It is an EXCELLENT read.)

I've always been a little uneasy with the term "twentysomething." I never liked being lumped in with a bunch of egocentric whiners. But at the same time, I really could see hints of that twentysomething aura in myself. And that bothered me.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I LOVED my twenties. I saw a lot of the world, and anyone who has known me for more than two minutes knows that travel thrills me. I come alive when traveling. I am the most me when traveling. I enjoyed all...oh, about 20...jobs I had. It may not have been that many, but there were a lot. I liked college. I dated one really excellent man in my 20s, and am so, so, so glad I did not embrace the promiscuity of my generation. As I enter my 30s, I am still ridiculously old-fashioned in that realm. I am guarding my heart (or doing my best, at least. The heart is unruly at times.) until I meet a man who will treat it with as much care as I do. Rabbit trail...

Anyway, yeah, I liked my 20s. But I've been volunteering at the senior center these past few months, and I find myself deeply admiring older generations' stability. I find myself thinking all these seniors DESERVE to make art, play pool, shout bingo, read books, eat good, cheap food, and go on excursions to Applebees (the nearest one is 2 hours away) because they did their time. They got married and stuck with it. They worked hard at just a few jobs until retiring on a solid financial foundation. And now, they can delight in hours of conversation over coffee at the senior center.

Will my generation be like that? Or will we still be searching for fulfillment at 80? What if we're just moving too fast to see that fulfillment doesn't come in that next thing or person or activity down the road if we could just get there fast enough?

We must learn to invest our time, money, effort, attitudes and choices into others. We must fight bitterness and that mad rat race of keeping up with the Joneses. We must forgive the hurts that will fester and rot us to our core if we don't. And we must commit. At least to the things that matter.

Now, I am a wanderer at heart. And I think God can use wanderers, so I'm not proposing we all commit to one job for the next 40 years. But we do need to commit to people. We need to put in the work of being a good friend, of keeping our good friends. We need to commit to serving the people in our church and loving, somehow, someway, the people outside our church walls that may very well not return our love at all. We MUST commit to our marriages and our kids. That, in itself, would radically turn this world around.

I realize I'm beginning to wander in this post. I suppose I'm just saying I was a little surprised by how much introspection turning 30 brought to me. I am grateful for my twentysomething era. So grateful. I love my life. But I'm also ready to move forward a little more steadily. I want to be committed with all my heart, soul, mind and strength to my Lord. And I want to be a steadfast and loyal friend to all those folks out there who may be frantically seeking the next big thing even though they really just want to sit down and enjoy a nice, leisurely chat over a cup of coffee...or four.

So. So long twentysomethings. It's been fun. But I'm really quite happy to be 30 now. Bring on those crow's feet and laugh lines. The more the merrier.

BMW

2011-10-28T16:12:00.000-06:00

After returning from my 49 by 29 adventure, I took every opportunity I could to be a BMW.

Not the car.

As a lesser known acronym, BMW also stands for Burly Mountain Woman...a nickname lovingly bestowed upon outdoorsy sorts of gals by my dear friend Sarah (who is, herself, one of the best of the best when it comes to being a BMW).

There is no handbook for how to be a BMW. Just get outside and get going. And really, the burlier the better. Haul a 30-pound pack into the wilderness. Climb a peak. Kayak a river. Bike up a mountain. Sleep under the stars. Make coffee under a tree as the sun rises. Don't shower for days.

Breathe that mountain air and love every second of it.

I am lucky enough to live within an easy hour of some ruggedly breathtaking mountain country. And I'm also lucky enough to have a dad who likes to get into the hills as much as I do. We were able to take a couple father-daughter backpacking trips into the Big Horn Mountains in August, and I just want to 1) make a shout-out to my adventurous dad for his willingness to trek along with me (I had a great time, Dad!), and 2) share a snapshot or two (or twenty) from our excursions.

Near Park Reservoir in the central Big Horn Mountain area.

My mom joined us for our initial "test backpack" to Park Reservoir. Aren't they an adventurous looking couple?

Onward and upward.

Our campsite on our first trek, destination Wolf Creek falls.

Coffee! In the mountains! YES!

Me and my dad.

My dad and the giant spider web that nearly ended up on our faces.

Looking over a valley on our way down to Wolf Creek falls.

Wolf Creek.

Burly Mountain Dad.

Creek on our way into Lost Twin Lakes in the Big Horn Mountains.

Lost Twin Lakes.

Cold, fresh, refreshing.

Our campsite near Lost Twin Lakes our first night on our way to Bighorn Peak.

View of Sherd Lakes on our way up Bighorn Peak, elevation 12,324 feet.

Summit pic...sorta. We were originally headed for Darton Peak until a last-minute route change put us on our way up Bighorn Peak. We didn't have time to reach the top and get back down before darkness fell, so this is about 200 vertical feet from the summit. Still a gorgeous view, though, and that elation of reaching a goal together.

Hiking in the upper reaches of the Big Horn Mountains essentially consists of miles and miles of boulder hopping.

View towards Cloud Peak, a challenging 26-mile trek (round-trip) to 13,167 feet that my dad and I hope to do next year.

Crossing a snow field. Darton Peak is in the background.

View from our campsite on our second night in the Cloud Peak Wilderness.

So green.

We were back there somewhere.

Creek crossing.

Me and my trusty Subaru, Sam, are ready to head home.

49 by 29: The coffee

2011-10-10T20:12:00.000-06:00

Not to go into blog post overkill on this whole 49 by 29 adventure...but I've got one more. I promise it'll be my last. And it involves coffee, so it's gotta be good.

With no further ado, I present "49 by 29: The Coffee."

Hotel coffee; Billings, MT; 4:45 a.m. June 28

Starbucks; Minneapolis airport; June 28

Delta Airlines coffee; in-flight to Orlando; June 28

Folgers Instant; Ochlockonee River State Park, FL; June 29

House blend; Coffeeheads in Alabama; June 30

Cafe au Lait and beignets; Cafe Du Monde in New Orleans, LA; June 30

House blend; Il Posto Cafe on Dryades Street in New Orleans; July 1

House blend; Community Coffee House on Magazine Street in New Orleans, July 1

Crescent City Cafe, a gourmet breakfast ministry for the homeless; New Orleans; July 2

Camp coffee; Chemin-A-Haut campground, northern Louisiana; July 3

Gas station coffee; somewhere Tennessee; somewhere around 4:30 a.m. July 4

Hazelnut blend; Panera Bread in Nashville, TN; mid-morning July 4

Ethiopian drip brew; Greyfriar's Coffee and Tea Co. in Chattanooga, TN; July 5

Sonic coffee; drive-thru on way out of Chattanooga; July 6

House blend; City Bakery Cafe in Asheville, NC; July 6

Camp coffee; Riverview Campground near Johnson City, TN; July 7

Starbucks; Princeton, WV; July 7

Fresh ground, percolated French roast, served with condensed milk; Anthony and Rachel's home in Princeton, WV; July 8

Camp coffee; Broken Wheel Campground near Weston, WV; July 9

House blend with cream; Blue Moose Cafe in Morgantown, WV; July 9

Diner coffee, black; Pamela's P&G Diner in Pittsburgh, PA; July 10

House blend; Crazy Mocha Coffee Company in Squirrel Hill neighborhood, Pittsburgh, PA; July 11

Earl Grey tea with milk; Te Cafe on Murray Avenue in Pittsburgh, PA; July 12

House blend; Commonplace Coffeehouse on Forbes Avenue in Pittsburgh; July 12

Hazelnut blend; Panera Bread near the University of Pittsburgh campus; July 13

Worst blended cappuccino I've ever had; Kiva Han Coffee on Craig Street in Pittsburgh; enjoyed by a cool fountain at Carnegie Mellon University; July 13

McDonald's coffee; on drive out of Pittsburgh, PA; July 14

House blend; Peregrine Espresso in Washington, D.C.; July 15

Latte; Newseum espresso bar in Washington, D.C.; July 15

Percolated with milk; Joel and Jolene's house (Jer's sister and brother-in-law) in New Castle, DE; July 16

Keurig single brew; Joel and Jolene's house in New Castle, DE; July 17

Percolated, black, with homemade pancakes; Joel and Jolene's house in New Castle, DE; July 18

Hazelnut blend; Wawa in Wildwood, NJ; enjoyed on beach at sunrise; July 19

Diner brew; Star Diner in Wildwood, NJ; July 19

Never-empty goodness; Honey's in Philadelphia, PA; July 20

House blend; Peet's Coffee and Tea in Philadelphia airport; 5 a.m. July 21

House blend; The Coffee Beanery in Detroit, MI, airport; July 21

Grande mocha lite frappuccino; Starbucks in Indianapolis, IN; July 21

French press of Snooze blend; enjoyed at bridesmaid breakfast at Sarah's parent's house in Indianapolis; July 22

Fresh ground Snooze blend, drip brew, black; Perrott house in Indianapolis; July 23

Catered coffee; wedding reception for Ben and Sarah Hilmer in Indianapolis, IN; late night July 23

General Mills drip brew; Perrott house in Indianapolis; post-wedding July 24

McDonald's McCafe blend; Indianapolis, IN; before church with Aunt Karoline and Uncle Lyle July 24

Drip brew with milk; Aunt Karoline and Uncle Lyle's house in Indianapolis, IN; July 25

Latte; Copper Moon World Coffees in Indianapolis airport; 3:30 p.m. July 25

House blend; La Brea Bakery in Minneapolis airport; 8 p.m. July 25

French press, black; home in Sheridan, WY; July 26

49 by 29: A recap...and the rest of the story

2011-10-03T20:43:00.000-06:00

So, to recap this crazy 49 by 29 story:

Back in May, I had a Bilbo Baggins moment and found myself saying, as Bilbo said in "The Hobbit": "I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging..."

So I emailed my friend Jeremy. And we hatched a plan to drive from Florida to Philadelphia with a slight detour through Arkansas and West Virginia. The plan would serve two main purposes: Get me into my 48th and 49th state (Arkansas and West Virginia) and get Jeremy "home."

My boss was kind enough to give me the month of July off for this adventure (and a special side trip to Indianapolis to celebrate the wedding of two good friends), so I went. I flew to Orlando, and Jer and I drove and drove and drove.

The last 30 or so posts on this blog have detailed that journey, so I won't hash it out again here. But I do have a few fun stats, for those of you who like that kind of thing.

-We drove somewhere in the vicinity of 3,250 miles.

-Jeremy and I visited 14 states.

-I set foot in 18 states all in all...if you count airports. Since many of my friends hotly contest whether airports count or not, that number could also be 16 (taking into account my layovers in Minnesota and Michigan).

-We slept 9 nights in a tent...in 4 different states (Florida, Louisiana, Tennessee, and West Virginia).

-I slept in 16 different locations...8 on a ground pad in the tent, 6 on a bed in a house, 1 on a couch, and 1 on a bed in a hotel.

-The state we spent the least amount of time in: Virginia.

-The state we spent the most amount of time in: Pennsylvania.

-Favorite new music (for me): Damien Rice.

-Number of fast food meals from a chain restaurant: One...at Wendy's.

-Number of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches consumed: A lot.

-Most exotic meal: French from Paris 66 in Pittsburgh.

-Cups of coffee consumed (for me): 43...plus a few refills here and there, I'm sure. Also, 1 cup of tea, 2 lattes, and 2 blended coffees.

-Beer: Yuengling at campsite in West Virginia, imported triple-brew Trappist beer (best beer I've ever had) with friends in Pittsburgh, oatmeal stout at The Terminal in Chattanooga, German Hefeweizen at a German beer hall in Pittsburgh.

-Favorite tourist activity: Oooo, tough one. We didn't do many, but my top three would be: coffee and beignets at Cafe Du Monde in New Orleans, the Newseum in Washington DC, and the Indy 500 in Indy.

-Most unexpected adventure: Well, other than being robbed, I'd have to say riding a roller coaster in Wildwood, NJ. I honestly never thought that would happen in my lifetime. Kayaking in Pittsburgh and mountain biking in Delaware were also pleasant surprises in the journey.

-Oddest attraction: Fields of the Wood in Murphy, North Carolina. Definitely worth checking out if you're ever in the area.

-Laundry: 3 times...Chattanooga, Pittsburgh, New Castle.

-Did you really just write a stat about laundry?

-Yes, yes I did. Let's move on, shall we?

49 in 29 was a grand adventure. I am so glad Jer was willing to join in the journey with me. We met ambitious, compassionate, hospitable people; connected with old friends; met a few not-so-nice people; and saw and heard and felt so much. I'm looking forward to Hawaii someday, and Jeremy is always looking forward to some destination or another, but I want to end this post with "the rest of the story," as in, what happened in the days and weeks after we parted ways.

I'll start with me, so I can end with Jeremy's more exciting turn of events...

I returned to Wyoming and resumed my current job as a grant writer. I did a couple awesome backpacking trips with my dad. I spent time with dear friends. My company moved offices. I began volunteering at the senior center. I took up disc golf again. Life has gone on. And yet, I feel change coming. I miss journalism and am looking for ways to return to it. I have also been considering the mission field a bit more but am still in prayer on that one. Whatever is next, though, I am looking forward to it, knowing that God is the author of my life, and that He writes good stories.

As for Jeremy...he is engaged to be married! God reunited him with his dear friend Heather in Philadelphia and quickly made it clear to them that they were to marry. They share a love for Jesus, for hurting people, for travel, and for the Spanish language, and I know God will use their marriage and lifelong partnership to accomplish mighty things. That's a good end to this 49 by 29 story.

49 by 29: Follow the pink highlighted line...

2011-09-24T22:18:00.001-06:00

49 by 29: a journey with jeremy

From Florida to Philadelphia, with a slight detour through Arkansas and West Virginia, my friend Jeremy helped me check off states 48 and 49 in my quest to see all 50.

I love a good map. I love seeing where I started, where I ended, and where I wandered in between. I love that I can trace a squiggly line in 10 seconds that represents three weeks of meeting new people, seeing new sights, and learning new lessons about this whole business of living--and living well.

Thanks to a nice boss who let me off for a month, and a good friend who likes to drive more than anyone I know, I was able to see 49 states by 29 years of age. And though it seems at times a silly goal to see all 50 of our United States, it's a goal I've never regretted "going for." Goals are good. They simultaneously move you forward and face you backward as you appreciate what you've attained and strive for what is yet to come. And, ideally, goals will help you stop right here, in this moment, to simply enjoy.

I don't know when I'll hit state #50. But I do think I'll dance a little jig when I step into the sands of Hawaii.

49 by 29: July 26 - The adventure of working hard and loving people

2011-09-17T13:47:00.001-06:00

Coffee:
Water boiled in my favorite red kettle. Coffee prepared in my beloved French press. I'm home.

From the journal:
I don't tend to miss the road right away after a trip. But I know I'll miss it soon. At that time, Father God, please help me embrace the adventures of working hard and loving people, day by day. Thank you for this journey. And you know I'm always ready for another one!

49 by 29: July 25 - Indy 500. Home.

2011-09-17T13:13:00.000-06:00

Egg casserole, fresh fruit, and drip brew coffee at Aunt Karoline and Uncle Lyle's.

Latte, Indianapolis airport.

House blend, Minneapolis airport.

Coffee:
-Drip brew at Aunt Karoline and Uncle Lyle's house, enjoyed with a homemade breakfast of egg casserole and fresh fruit.

-Latte, no flavor, from Copper Moon World Coffees in the Indianapolis airport.

-Small house blend from La Brea Bakery in the Minneapolis airport.

From the journal:
I slept in today then enjoyed a leisurely breakfast with Karoline and Lyle. I want to be like them as I grow older. They have invested themselves in relationships with others, and in each other. I love how much they laugh together.

Anyway, they took me to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway today. We rode a bus around the 2.5-mile track and learned all kinds of tidbits from our tour guide. The average speed around the track is 220 miles per hour. The fastest speed is 240 mph. For Nascar, the fastest speed is 190 mph. Racers make 200 laps for the Indy 500...and one lap only takes 38 seconds! Wow! The speedway was originally built to be a paved testing ground for those new-fangled automobiles in 1909.

After lunch, we went to the airport, and I began my journey home. It is hard to believe a month has passed. I've seen and experienced so much and met so many great people. I'm definitely going to need some time to process it all.

I'm now passing a 4-hour layover in Minneapolis...drinking coffee, journaling, people watching. I sure drink a lot of coffee in airports. (Of course, I drink a lot of coffee everywhere else, too.)

I love airports.

I love travel.

Where will I go next?

Where will you go?

Everything about the Indianapolis Motor Speedway feels big and fast. I'm not really into racing, but I enjoyed being on the track and learning about its history. I'm glad my aunt and uncle took me. And they even bought me a t-shirt as a souvenir...because they're sweet like that.

On the Indy 500 track. Vroom, vroom.

And home. Well, almost home. My folks picked me up in the Billings airport close to midnight, and then we drove home. They even got me flowers...because they're sweet like that. Must run in the family :).

49 by 29: July 24 - Time with my aunt and uncle

2011-09-15T21:32:00.001-06:00

Coffee:

-General Mills drip brew at the Perrott's house...pictured above with a few leftover guest favors from the wedding the night before.

-McDonald's premium roast enjoyed with my Aunt Karoline and Uncle Lyle before we went to church together.

From the journal:

Uncle Lyle and Aunt Karoline picked me up at the Perrott's house so we could go to church together at Gray Road Baptist Church.

It was really special to worship with them. And I liked the pastor's sermon on how Jesus and His church are intimately connected, so you cannot claim to love one and not the other. The church is Christ's bride.

After lunch, I took a nap. I love naps. I wish American jobs allowed for nap times like so many other countries do. It's a brilliant idea. Later, I showed Karoline and Lyle some photos from my trip. For some reason, the photo of the site where Jeremy and I got robbed took me by surprise. I had forgotten it would be in the mix. I wasn't planning on telling my beloved aunt and uncle about the robbery because I didn't want them to worry about me, but the photo was there and the story was there, so I told it again. It still doesn't sound like my own.

In the evening, Karoline and Lyle took me downtown to walk along the canal and see some of the sights in Indianapolis. I love my aunt and uncle. They are gentle, and loving, and just refreshing to be around. They make me feel so special. I wish we lived closer so we could see each other more often.

The Soldiers and Sailors Monument in downtown Indianapolis. I wasn't able to get a very good photo, but it was an impressive monument standing just short of 300 feet tall and honoring Indiana veterans of most the wars in America's history. I would definitely visit again and spend some time admiring the intricate sculptures.

Me and my Aunt Karoline in front of a cool steam-powered clock.

A SWEET community garden in downtown Indy. Sights like this make me happy.

Canal Walk in downtown Indy. You can rent paddle boats and bikes to explore, or simply stroll along.

Me and my Uncle Lyle and Aunt Karoline. Love 'em so.

49 by 29: July 23 - Ben and Sarah get hitched

2011-09-12T21:02:00.001-06:00

Coffee:

-Fresh ground Snooze blend...brewed in an ever faithful Mr. Coffee machine.

-Several cups at the wedding reception. How many is several, you ask? Ummmm, like 8.

From the journal:

The big day! Sarah Perrott becomes Sarah Hilmer!

I've never seen a wedding day that wasn't at least a bit on the frenzied side. It's always good frenzied, but frenzied nonetheless. How could it not be when months and months of planning finally have to "come together." There are a bajillion details, and a bajillion emotions, and a bajillion ways to fix the hair, the makeup, the dresses, the shoes.

But in the end, it all works. Or doesn't work. But at that point, it just doesn't matter. Two people who love each other are getting married. Two people are pledging til death us do part. It is a beautiful, sacred moment worth celebrating.

Anyway, it was a crazy, wonderful day. Here's the rundown:

Sarah prepared a pancake breakfast for friends and family who came from far away to attend the wedding...cause she's cool like that.

Then we drove to Fort Benjamin Harrison to check on the set-up of the ceremony and reception. Finding things in tip-top shape, we returned to Sarah's parents' house to get ready. I got dressed and ran to pick up a video camera for recording the ceremony while Sarah and her seven bridesmaids got their hair and make-up done.

Sarah put on her dress and "Sarah Green" shoes. As always, she looked absolutely stunning!

Photos were taken...lots and lots of photos.

Sarah, her seven bridesmaids, me, the photographer, and two drivers loaded into a white stretch limo. We started driving to the wedding site, but then Sarah saw a red barn she wanted to use as a setting for photos. So we pulled into the owner's driveway, knocked on his door, and explained why a gal in a wedding dress and seven gals in lapis-colored gowns were paying him a visit. He kindly agreed to let us use his barn (and horses) for a few photos. He even snapped a few photos of his own; it's not everyday a bridal party pulls up in a limo and asks to pose in front of your barn, you know.

The bridal party descends and bustles around the kind owner of the beautiful red barn.

Hold that pose...

And one more... (Kimber Shaw is an excellent photographer, should you ever need one in the Indianapolis area.)

We picked up both flower girls and took more photos.

We arrived at The Garrison at Fort Benjamin Harrison State Park and hid out in a room until the ceremonies began.

Music played. Ben arrived. The wedding party graced the aisle. Heads turned. Sarah entered. Her mother dabbed her eyes.

I was honored to read scripture in the ceremony (Colossians 3:12-17).

Ben and Sarah said their vows.

Man and wife.

The reception. I sat with Megan, Nannette, Bonnie, and Marcey...fellow Operation Christmas Child peeps from Sarah's time of serving with OCC in Ohio. They were lovely ladies, and I enjoyed the conversation.

Every guest received a bottle of Country Bob's All-Purpose Sauce...Ben's favorite.

I snapped a few silly photos in the photo booth. Dancing began, but I couldn't bring myself to join the group.

Sometimes I am the wall behind the wallflower.

I wish I would have danced. Next time, I will dance.

This time, I cleaned. And I suppose that is okay, except that it's awfully anti-social of me. Alas, it is water under the bridge.

Ben and Sarah are married, and I am truly, truly happy for them and glad to call them friends.

Perhaps someday it will be me. And perhaps not. Father, God, help me live with grace and joy and a servant's heart, come what may.

A coffee toast to a gosh darn cute, coffee-lovin', life-to-the-fullest livin' couple. Love yah bunches, Ben and Sarah Hilmer!

49 by 29: July 22 - Rehearsing for the real deal

2011-09-08T22:26:00.001-06:00

My coffee amidst many coffees. I'm sure there's some deep analogy in there: we are each a different brew at a different level in a different mug. Some are weak; some pack a punch. Some are half empty; some are holding out for a refill; some are to the brim once the cream is added; and some are frothing up and over, just begging someone to take a slurp. Some mugs are serious and functional; some are colorful and silly; some are made of glass; some are made of stone.

What are you? What do you want to be?

Coffee:

A French press of fresh-ground coffee from Snooze, the best a.m. eatery in Denver. Snooze is where Ben proposed to Sarah...even though they were living in Indianapolis at the time. He surprised her with a flight to Snooze, bought her her favorite food ever (pancakes), and proposed. Pretty romantic, if you ask me.

From the journal:

Sarah made a lovely breakfast of quiche and French toast with yogurt and berries for all her bridesmaids...and me, too, cause she's sweet like that. It was a bubbly bridesmaid breakfast, and the day only got crazier from there.

After breakfast, Sarah, all seven of her bridesmaids, her mom, her mother-in-law, and me went and got manicures and pedicures. My manicure was my first. I got sparkly pink nails, which I thought looked weird, but it was really sweet of Donna (Sarah's mom) to include me in the girly fun.

After nails, everyone got dressed for the rehearsal and rehearsal dinner. Ben's parents put on a smashing good barbecue complete with pulled pork with Country Bob's all-purpose sauce (Ben's favorite), chicken, another meat I can't remember, beans, green bean salad, pasta salad, lots of other salads I can't remember, and pies galore. I had strawberry-rhubarb, and it was delish.

All in all, the rehearsal went off without a hitch, and I think Ben and Sarah will do a wonderful job of getting hitched tomorrow.

Bridesmaid breakfast, day before the wedding.

Manicures and pedicures for all the girls.

The bride with her ever-present Starbucks.

Mother-daughter time at the spa. Looking good, ladies!

Love is blind to oncoming motorhomes in this post rehearsal dinner kiss.

49 by 29: July 21 - Reunited!

2011-09-07T22:06:00.001-06:00

Philadelphia airport. 5 a.m.

Detroit airport. 8-ish a.m.

Indianapolis Starbucks. 3-ish p.m.

Coffee:

-House blend in a to-go cup from Peet's Coffee and Tea in the Philadelphia airport. Consumed while shaking off the haze of getting up at 4 a.m. to catch my 6 a.m. flight to Indianapolis.

-Medium roast in a to-go cup from the Coffee Beanery in the Detroit airport. Consumed with second breakfast while reading and killing time on my layover.
-Grande mocha lite frappuccino with whip at a Starbucks in Indy. Consumed on the way to getting my friend Sarah spray tanned for her upcoming wedding. Eeeeeeyyyy!

From the journal:
Said goodbye to Jer today. I will miss him but am so glad he so enthusiastically agreed to this adventure. We made great travel buddies. 49 down!

Said goodbye to the road today...at least this portion of the road. I will miss it but know I will always be "on the road" in some respect or another. It's in my blood.

I left Philly at 6 a.m., paused in Detroit, and landed in Indy at 11:30. I seriously thought I would pee my pants with excitement when Ben and Sarah picked me up! I can't believe it's been a year and a half since we last saw each other while working together at Operation Christmas Child in Denver. Guess it just goes to show that true friendships last over the miles (and travel over the miles to reunite whenever possible).

The day was spent running errands and doing wedding prep with Sarah and her maid of honor, Robin. We got Sarah a dress for rehearsal dinner, got Sarah spray tanned, got crafty stuff for her crafty wedding, got to meet Ben's parents and lots of other wonderful folks, and got tired. Or at least I got tired, so I took a nap while Sarah's bridesmaids gathered for a night of wedding prep and pre-wedding girl hangout time.

Later in the evening, I met up with my cousin, Nikki, and her family for frozen yogurt. It was so great to meet her husband and kids and get to know them! I do wish my extended family lived closer so we could know each other better, but we bonded right away. That's the beauty of family blood. A big THANK YOU to Nikki and Bennett and Caden and Eva for the wonderful evening!

Me and my cousin Nikki, her husband, Bennett, and their kids Caden and Eva enjoying some frozen yogurt goodness at the Orange Leaf in Indianapolis.

49 by 29: July 20 - "Mountain" biking in Deleware

2011-09-04T20:07:00.001-06:00

Coffee:

A mug of never-empty goodness at Honey's, a great eatery in Philadelphia that knows a full cup of coffee makes a happy customer.

From the journal:

Today was our Philly day. We ate breakfast at this hideaway eatery called Honey's that buys fresh, local, and organic and prepares as much in house as possible. It was one of Jeremy's favorite places to eat when he lived in Philadelphia, and I can see why. I had scrambled eggs, potato latke, challah toast with homemade blueberry jam, and the aforementioned never-empty coffee. I definitely recommend a trip to Honey's if you're ever in the Philly area.

We walked around Rittenhouse Square and went to Barnes and Noble to find books to assist Jeremy in his next adventure: eating plants and bugs. I learned a surprising amount about how much of our world is edible! Perhaps I'll try a few plants and bugs of my own...

We got lunch at Trader Joe's and walked along the river behind the Philadelphia Art Museum and the Waterworks Museum. It was kind of cool to see the location where the idea of pumping and moving water into individual houses came to fruition. Overall, it was a pleasant excursion. (What am I? Seventy? Such quaint speech.)

We then toured more of Philly Jer style: on the road. We hugged the Schuylkill River on Kelly Drive, wound up the fast and curvy Lincoln Drive, cruised through a quaint French section of town with cobblestone streets, and zipped down South Street, the trendy, hipster area of Philly.

After our whirlwind tour of Philadelphia, we joined Joel (Jer's brother-in-law) and his friend Duane and his son Luke for a gnarly (What am I? A '90s girl? Where's my flannel?) mountain biking adventure through some sweet single track with lots of rocks, roots, narrow passes through tree branches, and ups and downs. It was a great ride. I do wonder, though, why all my "mountain" biking adventures have occurred in Pennsylvania and Delaware? Hmmm, I better find some trails in Wyoming's REAL mountains. But first, I definitely need to learn to pop a wheelie.

Dark and early tomorrow morning I am off to Indianapolis for Ben and Sarah's wedding! I'm so excited to see my good friends again.

It's still hard to believe this part of the journey is at its end. But I have a feeling Jer and I will meet up again...somewhere down the road. That's what travelers do.

Breakfast at Honey's. Yum.

Schuylkill River behind Waterworks Museum in Philadelphia.

Waterworks Museum interprets stories from one of the nation's first metropolitan water systems.

Luke, Duane, Joel, Jer, and me before our biking adventure. Jer said the helmet DID NOT make the headstand hurt his head less. It actually made it more painful. Now you know in case you were plotting to try a headstand in a bike helmet.

Jessica, Jared, Joel, and Jolene. Jeremy's sister and her family were fun, helpful, hospitable hosts. Thanks!

49 by 29: July 19 - Up with the sun for a day full of fun

2011-08-31T08:49:00.001-06:00

Hazelnut blend from Wawa, enjoyed on beach at Wildwood, NJ.

Diner Coffee, Wildwood, NJ.

Coffee:

-Hazelnut blend from Wawa in Wildwood, NJ. Enjoyed on the beach at sunrise. I love that Wawa, coffee, beach, and sunrise were just mentioned in one thought. You KNOW the day is going to be good when it starts with that combo!

-Thick house blend in a classic diner mug at the Star Diner Cafe. Perhaps not the best coffee in the world, but good in principle since it was enjoyed with a good friend over a diner breakfast in New Jersey.

From the journal:

Jer and I woke up early (before 5 a.m.) to watch the sunrise over the beach at Wildwood. I was busy taking photos until the batteries in my camera died. Since the van was locked with my key inside it and Jeremy was a ways down the beach, I actually had to sit still and talk to God.

Let's just say I'm glad the batteries died. I am so easily distracted sometimes.

While watching the sunrise and thinking about God's grace and God's judgement (see my previous post struggling with these issues here), I realized that I would not want to worship an incomplete God. I may not like the idea of God as Judge, but I also do not want to pick and choose parts of God to love. I do not want to serve a God of my making. I don't see any good in that.

***

After the sunrise and a hearty diner breakfast at the Star Diner, we drove around Wildwood a bit then headed to Cape May on the New Jersey mainland. There we gathered polished stones on the beach, visited the lighthouse, and saw what time can do to places in our childhood memories when we saw that an old "fortress" from Jer's youth that used to be nearly submerged in the ocean is now in the middle of a sandy beach.

We went to the Cape May Zoo, which is FREE and quite remarkable. I love zoos. We then cruised around Rowan University, where Jeremy went to college, and checked out a few more places he's lived. Wow. He's moved a lot...no wonder life on the road, staying in new places every few days, comes so naturally to him.

After visiting the college, we met Jeremy's parents, Jon and Marian, at a gas station near Rowan. They were on their way back to Wildwood after spending some time in Colorado. It was nice to chat with them for a bit. They were genuinely sweet, wonderful folk. Thanks, Jon and Marian, for taking the time to stop and chat!

We returned to Delaware for a nice family dinner and hang-out time. I cannot believe that tomorrow is the last day on this particular journey with Jer.

But I know there will always be another adventure...

Sunrise over the beach at Wildwood, NJ.

Boy fishing at Cape May, NJ.

Cool fence in rocks at Cape May, NJ.

This "hand" drier in a tourist shop at Cape May, NJ, was hung at waist height. But, according to the photo instructions for use, it is meant only for your head. Push button. Bend over. Emerge looking like Justin Bieber.

A FREE zoo!

I wish I could stand in my cereal bowl.

Giraffes are so cool.

49 by 29: July 18 - The day I rode a roller coaster and conquered one of my greatest fears

2011-08-30T22:42:00.001-06:00

I did not take this picture. This was the second of two days I forgot to take my daily coffee photo. Silly me.

Coffee:

Percolated. Black. So quaint. And so good.

From the journal:

Off to Wildwood, New Jersey!

Jer and I had a nice drive through fields, and horse pastures, and forests. I don't really know why New Jersey gets such a bad rap...I thought it was quite lovely.

We spent several hours on the beach in North Wildwood, Jeremy's hometown. It was fun to see the places of his childhood. As a girl who grew up in the mountains of Wyoming and went to beaches only on extravagant vacations, I can hardly fathom the sand and ocean being a daily experience. Then again, others can probably hardly fathom watching the sun set behind craggy peaks each evening.

I read a book on the beach. I walked barefoot in the sand and collected sea shells. I dipped my toes in the water. I danced. I prayed. I laughed. I listened to the sound of the waves crashing in and rolling out, crashing in and rolling out. I felt so grateful for this thing called life.

After the beach, we went down to the Wildwood boardwalk, a lively locale with restaurants, tourist shops, and an amusement park complete with roller coasters and a Ferris wheel. We got pizza at Angelo's and listened to part of the nightly service at the Boardwalk Chapel, the ministry Jeremy's dad has directed for years. All in all, the Boardwalk Chapel has ministered on the shores of the Atlantic for more than 65 years, presenting the love of Christ to hundreds of thousands of tourists and training young people how to serve God through skits, songs, preaching, and evangelism. Check out the website here.

Jeremy also accomplished the near impossible: he got me to ride a roller coaster. After fainting on the log ride in the Mall of America 17 years ago, I swore off any ride that dropped, swooped, or loop-the-looped. Over the years, many friends have tried and failed to drag me onto said rides. I've either flat-out refused or gotten in line and chickened out at the last minute every time.

But Jer made it happen. He pulled the old, "Look over there!" trick, bought two tickets, and had me up the stairs and boarding the wooden Great White before I could pull any disappearing acts. I didn't faint! And I even laughed. Kudos to Jeremy! Hats off! I'm walking a little taller now.

Beach at Wildwood, New Jersey.

Walking along the water's edge.

My shadow joined me as I sauntered along the shore.

Boardwalk Chapel, a ministry of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church of New Jersey.

A band of bagpipers stopped on their march down the boardwalk to play "Amazing Grace" in front of the Boardwalk Chapel.

Us...with the roller coaster we just rode.

The Great White looms large over the coast of Wildwood, New Jersey.

We just rode a roller coaster, and you're still alive!

49 by 29: July 17 - Deep thoughts in Deleware

2011-08-28T21:22:00.002-06:00

I did not take this photo. It was one of two days I totally forgot to take my daily coffee shot.

Coffee:

Keurig single brew house blend. I always love a good cup of Keurig. It just feels so personal, you know. I can have hazelnut, or vanilla bean, or French roast...or Earl Grey tea, if I really want. It's like having my own personal barista.

From the journal:

We went to church with Joel, Jolene, Jared and Jessica, and I really enjoyed attending our first church service of the trip. For as much as I can rag on the state of the modern American church, I do miss it when I don't go. I see the value in gathering with other believers.

It was a big church, but folks seemed friendly. The sermon was on Judges chapter 5, also known as Deborah's victory song. It's a pretty brutal chapter celebrating men and women who destroy God's enemies (one woman drives a tent stake through a guy's head). Anyway, as I read before and after the chapter, I was reminded of how violent some parts of the Old Testament can be. This brought up for me the ongoing struggle I have trying to reconcile the God of the Old Testament--a seemingly harsh, judgemental God--with the loving and compassionate God portrayed by Christ in the New Testament.

I struggle to understand how such wrath and such mercy can co-exist in one God. And I fear that my worship of God is not complete because I don't honestly want to worship and revere God's judgement. I don't wish to draw near to an angry God.

But we are told to worship in spirit and in truth, to worship with all our being, head and heart, without reserve. We are to hold nothing back when we worship. And so, I will struggle to do so, remembering Jeremy's belief that everything in the Bible points to Christ. The harsh punishment we find in the Old Testament is what we all deserve for our sins, and it is the suffering that Jesus bore when he died and rose again to spare us our death.

After church, Joel and Jolene's friends came over for lunch. We enjoyed food and ping-pong and good-natured hanging out.

In the evening, Jer and I went to Philly to play ultimate Frisbee with folks from his old church. I played for about two minutes but had trouble figuring out who in the world was actually on my team and quickly realized I was way out of my league. I've played ultimate maybe twice in my life, and these guys were good. So, I bowed out and enjoyed watching a lively game in the cool night air. I never mind a good excuse to have fun snapping photos...

49 by 29: July 16 - Air club...small-scale RC style

2011-08-28T20:39:00.001-06:00

Coffee:

Percolated with milk at Jolene and Joel's house (Jeremy's sister and brother-in-law). AND...accompanied by homemade pancakes! YES! Thanks, Joel, Jolene, Jared, and Jessica, for your wonderful hospitality!

From the journal:

It was a down home, laid back Saturday. Jeremy and I joined Joel and the kids (Jared and Jessica) at a Delaware RC Club air show and spent the afternoon watching remote control airplanes take to the airwaves. It was a kick to watch these miniature replicas of our flying machines do barrel rolls and hammerheads. At one point, they had 23 World War I planes in the air! And at another point, an American plane and Japanese plane were re-enacting World War II...zooming and dive bombing all over the place. There were bi-wings and tri-wings and jets...all with miniature pilots wearing bomber jackets and aviator goggles and the like. I was truly impressed with the skill of the remote control pilots, too. Fun times!

Jer and I then went to Philadelphia to hang out with Christie, who was visiting from DC, and Jer's friends Dave and John...and some others, too. We sloshed beers (half liter of German Hefeweizen for me) at a German beer hall and enjoyed some lively conversation with friends old and new. I took no photos that evening, so the link is to Jeremy's photo of the beer hall.

All those little black dots are RC planes during the exhibit of 23 WWI replicas.

49 by 29: July 15 - D.C. in a Day

2011-08-27T00:08:00.001-06:00

House blend, Peregrine Espresso, Washington DC.

Cafe latte, Newseum, Washington DC.

Coffee:

-House blend from Peregrine Espresso in Washington, DC. This was a nice little shop near the Eastern Market. We got our coffee to go, but it seemed like a shop I could have lingered in for a while. I would have read the Washington Post, I think.

-Cafe Latte from the cafe in the Newseum. I again got this cup of coffee to go. There's just too much to see in DC!

From the journal:

DC in a day! Go!

Jer and I rode the metro into the heart of DC. We got off at the Eastern Market and got some coffee...and head cheese. Yeah, cow brains. Brain food. Food for thought. It really wasn't bad. I mean, it won't become a regular part of my diet, but I'm glad we tried it.

After our little snack, we set off to pack as much DC into our day as possible.

First stop: Library of Congress. Wow! Such a beautiful place...and all of it dedicated to books. It was cool to see the Gutenberg Bible and Thomas Jefferson's library, which is the seed of the entire Library of Congress.

Next we went to the Capitol. And though I'm sure there were big important things going on, the thing that amazed us most was how invisible we felt. No one seemed to even see us or care where we wandered. We shuffled along with a group of people who were all wearing "Escorted" tags and ended up in some secure area. We thought about seeing how long we could be unofficial members of this officially escorted group but decided to head on our way. At some point, someone would notice us and would probably care very much where we were wandering.

Each day, the Newseum displays one newspaper from each state. That means my name has been in this very display case when I had a story on the front page of the Casper Star-Tribune.

The Newseum had an entire floor dedicated to news coverage of Hurricane Katrina. It was informative to see an explanation of these sobering marks I saw on houses when I was in New Orleans just a week before.

This is a map of freedom of press around the world. Green is good. Red is not good. Any journalist in a "red" country gets my utmost respect.

Display of front pages from around the nation after the attacks of September 11.

This handwritten newspaper was published in Japan after the tsunami. The news must go on.

After the Capitol, Jeremy went to the sculpture garden while I spent a few hours in the Newseum. Yes, that's right, the Newseum. It's a six-floored museum dedicated to everything newsy. I truly enjoyed it...and I'm not a huge museum person. My favorite exhibit featured every photograph that has ever won a Pulitzer Prize. Some of the images were so powerful they brought tears to my eyes. I also enjoyed the exhibit dedicated to the dangers of reporting news around the world. We are truly lucky to have freedom of the press in this country! Overall, the museum got me all fired up to be a journalist again. I miss it. I want to report the truth. I want to tell people's stories.

One of Jer's famous upside down shots.

Vietnam Veteran's Memorial.

World War II memorial.

Thank you to all who have served and are now serving.

After the Newseum, Jer and I marveled at the Washington Monument, pondered the World War II memorial, reflected on the sacrifice of soldiers at the Vietnam Veteran's Memorial, and gazed up at the much-larger-than-life Lincoln Memorial.

All in all, we probably walked about 10 miles. Sometimes I felt patriotic. Sometimes I wished I knew more about history. Often I wished I was more passionate about politics. Perhaps that is something I can work on.

Jazz in the Gardens. The entire sculpture garden was packed with DC-ers turned sardines.

Before leaving town, we met up with our host, Kim, and her boyfriend at Jazz in the Gardens. I have never seen so many people jammed into a park. Wherever there was ground, there were people sitting on blankets...all dressed up and drinking gobs of sangria. You could hardly hear the jazz. So weird.

We drove to Jeremy's sister's house in Delaware late at night. Jer is now "home."

49 by 29: July 14 - On to D.C.

2011-08-24T23:34:00.001-06:00

Coffee:
McDonald's on the way out of Pittsburgh. (Hey. Don't judge me. It had to be done. I can't always be runnin' around looking for a quaint, atmospheric coffee shop. Sometimes quick and cheap at the McCafe drive-thru is just what I want. I'm American.)

From the journal:
I bid Jared adieu, and Jer and I hit the road for Washington, DC. It was, as always, good to see Jared. And it was, as always, good to get back on the road.

The drive was beautiful! So many rolling hills and quaint farmsteads. I wish I had taken more road shots on this trip to capture our "everyday" life. Then again, it's impossible to capture that moment when the sun shining on a field of corn lights the stalks and deepens the shadows between the rows, and the field ripples past your window like a herd of zebras running across the plains. And the wind blows your hair back, and you smell earth, and dew, and you hear nothing but the sound of you and a friend rushing into a new day and a new adventure.

We got into DC at about 4:30 and enjoyed an evening with Jeremy's friend Christie. She is an avid cyclist and a real sweetheart. She provided a wonderful snack of zucchini and hummus before dinner and later in the evening whipped up a batch of crepes to enjoy with a jar of strawberry-rhubarb jam Jeremy's friend Kallie had sent along.

We ate at a new restaurant near her apartment: The Shake Shack. I had a Shackburger, and it was quite delicious.

We ended up crashing with strangers--now friends--once again. Kim and Elica are friends of Josh, who is married to Jeremy's good friend, Kallie. Their couch and futon were unbelievably comfy. And Kim and Elica themselves were kind, smart, witty, well-traveled, and super hospitable. A giant thank you to them for housing us wayfaring strangers!!

Me, Christie and Jer after a lovely evening in DC.

(Unfortunately, I was slow on the trigger today and didn't get any photos of the Shake Shack, or our kind hosts, or people dressed up as French maids to celebrate Bastille Day...)

49 by 29: July 13 - Will be a test subject for coffee...

2011-08-23T19:38:00.001-06:00

Panera Bread - a good standby.

The worst blended coffee I've ever had...courtesy of Kiva Han Coffee Shop in Pittsburgh.

Coffee:

-Hazelnut blend from Panera Bread on the University of Pittsburgh campus. I tried to go to Dunkin' Donuts to avoid coffee shop repeats, but I made the mistake of opening the door for a large group of large people. The lobby was then too crowded to fit me and I was feeling rather impatient. Eek.

-In the afternoon, I got a small blended cappuccino from Kiva Han Coffee Shop on Craig Street. It was the absolute worst blended coffee I've ever had...but at least the art/graffiti in the bathroom was cool. I enjoyed the worst coffee I've ever had by a cheery fountain on the campus of Carnegie Mellon University.

From the journal:

I am currently sitting in a little library room on the 36th floor of the Cathedral of Learning on the University of Pittsburgh campus. I tried to go to the 42nd (and highest) floor, but the elevator I was on refused to go above 38 even though it was marked for 42. Since it was the scariest elevator I've ever been on, I was happy to disembark on floor 36 after making it shake and squawk and wheeze to floor 38 and back.

I LOVE being this high up! There is a calm that comes over me when I lean my forehead against the window pane and gaze down upon the people, cars, and building so far below. It is quiet, and for a few precious moments, I feel as though nothing in the entire world can hurt me.

For lunch, I grabbed a huge slice of tomato and feta cheese pizza and enjoyed it in Schenley Plaza, which sits in the shadow of the Cathedral of Learning. I enjoyed people watching and sitting in the sun.

After lunch, I walked to the Carnegie Mellon museums of art and natural history but could tell I wasn't in a museum mood, so I continued on to Craig Street and poked around a few funky bookstores instead.

Books make me want coffee, so I stopped into a mobile Carnegie Mellon experiment truck to see if I could make a few bucks as a test subject. All I had to do was answer a few questions on a computer about art preferences, and I got $5 to buy more coffee! HA.

Jared and Julia and I went to happy hour at the Milk Shake Factory for dinner and got half-price milk shakes. Score! Then we had dessert at Local's Bar and Grill on the southside. I had a mojito chicken panini and sweet potato fries.

(Apparently all I did today was eat...)

After dinner, we went to an outdoor movie in Schenley Park. There were people and blankets everywhere, and I had a fine time watching Iron Man 2...for, oddly enough, the third time.

Pittsburgh has been a blast, and I will miss it.

Cathedral of Learning.

Inside the Cathedral of Learning. It is a truly remarkable place. The classrooms on the main floor are known as "Nationality Rooms" and are decorated to represent specific countries (Netherlands, China, Latvia, you name it). I think I would learn better in them :).

View of Carnegie Mellon museums of art and natural history from the 36th floor of the Cathedral of Learning.

Heinz Chapel on University of Pittsburgh campus.

Okay, I'll be a guinea pig for some coffee money...

The bathroom art/graffiti in the bathroom of Kiva Han Coffee Shop.

Kiva Han Coffee Shop. Don't get the blended cappuccino. And be prepared to have someone ask if they can read your tarot cards when you enter. And also be prepared to have the deceptively cute barista make you feel like the rudest person in the world for having the gall to order a terrible cup of coffee and interrupt his I'm-a-snobbish-hipster-barista-who-feels-too-cool-to-acknowledge-your-presence moment. Okay, I've said my piece.

Outdoor movie in Schenley Park. Good times.

49 by 29: July 12 - Re-charge and ride a bike

2011-08-22T20:07:00.002-06:00

Coffee:
-No coffee this morning. Yeah, I know, it's a shocker. I am drinking a cup of Earl Grey with whole milk at the Te Cafe on Murray Avenue in Pittsburgh. It is a charming tea in a charming place. There is good music, nice tables, and an impressive selection of teas...black, green, white, exotic. And my blueberry muffin tastes like it has a hint of lavender in it. I REALLY need to try baking with lavender.

-Small house blend from Commonplace Coffeehouse Roastery, a bustling coffee house that appears to cater to technology-laden hipsters. I think everyone inside the shop had a Mac or iPad or Smart Phone...or all three. Luckily I had my borrowed iPad so I could fit in, too.

From the journal:
I did my laundry this morning then walked down to Murray Avenue. As I was walking, I realized it was the first time (other than an hour in New Orleans) I'd been alone since we started this trip. That is probably good. Being the introvert writer that I am, I need some time to re-charge now and again.

It sometimes scares me how "at home" I feel on the road because I know I have to return to normal life soon. I pray I will learn to delight in the interactions and small adventures of each day. I also pray God will soon lead me to...the next thing. Whatever it may be.

I am tired today. It seems the longer you stop somewhere, the more tired you get and the more money you spend. On the road, you just go, and food and sleep come more naturally. With all the distractions of city life, time for food and sleep and introspection must be carved out and taken almost selfishly.

Anyway, that sounds more mumbo-jumbo-ish than I wanted, but that's okay. Let's just say I understand Jeremy's urge to get back on the road some days.

***

I bought a new coin purse to replace the one that was stolen. It is a colorful green purse from Ten Thousand Villages, and some of the profits from the sale will help support the Vietnamese women who made it by hand.

Take that, thieves! What you meant for harm can be used for good because that's the way God works.

***

After dinner (Mexican salad made by Jared...yum!), Jared and I went on a bike ride. And what a bike ride it was!

We went through a cemetery;
over a stone wall;
through giant mud puddles;
over logs;
under trees;
down a slippery, rocky single track meant for much more accomplished mountain bikers than I;
to the edge of a cliff;
up an 800-foot hill;
over bridges;
under the interstate;
over the interstate;
down, down, fast down Dallas Avenue;
through the cemetery where fireflies danced around gravestones;
home.

The ride was about 8 miles in all and was an absolute kick! And I owe Julia a special shout-out for letting me borrow her bike! Thanks, Julia!

If you're ever in Pittsburgh and jonesin' for some tea, try this place. They bring it out on a platter with a timer to tell you when to stop steeping the tea for perfect flavor.

Mountain biking. In Pittsburgh. Who knew?

49 by 29: July 11 - Pittsburgh with a French Twist

2011-08-18T08:13:00.001-06:00

Coffee:
House blend at Crazy Mocha Coffee Company on Murray Avenue in Pittsburgh. Decent coffee. Nice barista. But the place smelled kind of funny, so Jeremy and I sat outside until I began melting in the heat and had to move on.

From the journal:
Jared had to work today and so did Jeremy's friends, so he and I are hanging out for a bit. We're at the Crazy Mocha Coffee Company in the Squirrel Hill neighborhood of Pittsburgh. For some odd reason, I just told the barista that I'd been robbed of all my cash when I used my credit card to pay for a 91-cent refill. Poor girl. I wonder why it is easier for me to tell strangers I've been robbed than it is to tell friends? I suppose I don't want my loved ones to worry about me.

After coffee, we sat in Market Square in downtown Pittsburgh and did some reading and people watching. At one point, Jer rushed to the aid of a woman who collapsed nearby due to heat stroke. We don't believe in having a normal day :).

We then went to Jeremy's best friend's house. It was so good to finally put faces to these names--Josh and Kallie--I'd been hearing so much about!

For dinner, Jared and Julia and I went to Paris 66, an "everyday French" restaurant in Shadyside. Wow, the food was rich! We shared a meat and cheese tray that had about seven million different flavors...in one cheese slice. Ha...not really, but those French know how to make food make an impression. I also enjoyed a lovely broccoli cheese soup. A big THANK YOU to Jared for treating us on this foray into feisty French food!

As the legend goes, coffee was discovered by an Ethiopian goatherder named Kaldi. As he herded his flock, he noticed his goats danced with a surge of energy after nibbling on the red berries of bushes along the way. When he himself tried the berries, he also danced. Ecstatic about his discovery of such a magic berry, he took a handful to a holy man in a nearby village. The holy man, however, disapproved of such an evil berry and tossed them into the fire. When an enticing aroma billowed from the flames, the roasted beans were scooped from the fire, ground up, and dissolved in hot water. The world has been addicted ever since.

Meat and cheese plate at Paris 66 in Pittsburgh.

Broccoli soup...with French flair, of course.

Jared and Julia about to tuck into the French feast before us.

49 by 29: July 10- Urban kayaking and a pierogi party

2011-08-16T20:53:00.001-06:00

Coffee:
Unlimited refills at Pamela's P&G Diner on Murray Avenue in Pittsburgh.

From the journal:
Jared and I helped his friend Jo Anne move into a new apartment. There were a lot of people, so the load was light. I enjoyed being part of the effort and hope it was an encouragement to Jo Anne.

After everything had been unloaded, Jared and I went to Pamela's P&G Diner on Murray Avenue. A cash only establishment, it served only breakfast. That is a beautiful concept. Why ruin beautiful breakfast choices with the clutter of lunch and dinner menu items? I got blueberry crepes, and Jared got a ham and cheese omelet. Then we shared, and life was good.

Once finished with our breakfast for lunch, we went kayaking. Yeah, kayaking. In Pittsburgh. I never expected that adventure! We headed upstream on the Allegheny River from the 5th Street bridge, circled Washington Island, then headed downstream to Point State Park. We rounded the park into the Monongahela River and tagged the Ohio River on our way back. I truly enjoyed paddling in three rivers within two hours and seeing the striking Pittsburgh skyline from our yellow tandem.

After kayaking, we drove up Mt. Washington to get the classic view of Pittsburgh then went to a pirogi party for post-doctorate mathematicians at our friend Julia's place. Once the math talk began, I felt like I was in a foreign country listening to the lilt of a foreign tongue! But the pirogis were delicious, and I enjoyed the glimpse into the world of mathematical academia.

Me and Jared and Julia. And an orange cone...

Pamela's P&G Diner on Murray Avenue in Pittsburgh. Good times.

Jared powering us from the back of the kayak.

Me taking photos instead of paddling...

I always get a kick out of the photos Jared takes of me cause he's really tall and I'm really short.

Classic Pittsburgh view from Mt. Washington. It is one of the nicest skylines I've seen.

I'm not so good at those arm-extended self portraits. I've included this series of photos to provide folks with something to laugh at for the day. Go ahead. Laugh. I am.

49 by 29: July 9 - Goodbye to roughing it (sad face), hello to an old friend (happy face)

2011-08-16T07:44:00.001-06:00

Coffee:
-Camp coffee at our camp site in West Virginia
-House blend with cream at the Blue Moose Cafe in Morgantown, West Virginia. Good coffee. Great atmosphere. Stepping into the Blue Moose is like stepping back into the '90s. There is spiked hair. There is flannel. There is grunge music. And there is that "Dude, whatever, let's just jam out in the garage" attitude. I miss the '90s.

From the journal:
After striking camp (for possibly the last time...sad face), we drove to Morgantown, West Virginia, and chilled for a couple hours at the Blue Moose Cafe. It was a great little coffeehouse and diner with eclectic tables, worn chairs, funky art, funky baristas, funky customers... I was not expecting this city to have such a '90s grunge feel. Haha. I love it when places surprise me!

Speaking of surprises, I was surprised by how much I didn't like Asheville, North Carolina. I had heard such amazing things about it, too. Perhaps I didn't give it enough time, but its first impression was far too yuppie-hippie-snooty-Boulder,CO-ish for me. As much as I love coffee shops, boutiques, and art galleries, I'm still a Wyoming girl at heart. If a city looks down its nose at people, it's not the place for me.

Isn't it interesting how towns and cities have personality? And how we can like or dislike that personality just as if it were human?

Anyway, we are currently driving through southwest Pennsylvania on our way to Pittsburgh. I am loving the old stone houses and the fields of wildflowers. I honestly thought I'd be tired of driving by this point in the trip, but I'm not! The company is still grand, and the road is just fine.

We stopped south of Pittsburgh to have lunch with Jeremy's best friend's mother-in-law. Bonnie and Chris made us some fantastic paninis, served with fruit and wine and Italian candy. What lovely folk to feed us so well with such little notice of our arrival.

After getting stuck in a tunnel for 20 minutes coming into Pittsburgh, we made our way to my friend Jared's apartment, and, oh my goodness, was it good to see him! Jared has been a constant friend ever since we met at camp 14 years ago. Being miles apart and having longer silences between chats could have hampered our friendship, but it hasn't. And I'm glad. It is always refreshing to be with an old friend.

Blue Moose Cafe in Morgantown, West Virginia: Welcome to the '90s.

Saw this car on our way out of Morgantown, West Virginia, and just got a kick out of it.

Jared's friends Julia and Sara had us over for a tasty dinner of chicken fajitas and some of the best beer I've EVER had. It was a triple-brewed Trappist beer shipped in from San Francisco, and it was incredible. Anyway, Julia cooked and Sara hosted in her posh loft apartment in the neighborhood known as The Strip in Pittsburgh. Thanks, girls! I had a great time and truly appreciate your hospitality. (P.S. Sara works at Heinz as a brand manager for their gravy department. That means she has input on the labeling and overall appearance of that jar of gravy you buy at your local grocery store. How cool is that?) (P.P.S. Julia is a math genius and just landed her first professorship at Indiana University-Purdue University of Indianapolis. Congrats, Julia!)

49 by 29: July 8 - I like this life on the road

2011-08-14T20:15:00.001-06:00

Coffee:
Fresh-ground, percolated French roast prepared by our new friend, Anthony, and served with condensed milk.
Anthony also made us some incredible omelets served on fine China dishes because he realized recently that life is too short to not enjoy the special dishes given to him by his mother. Too true.

From the journal:
Tonight we camped near Weston, West Virginia, at the Broken Wheel Campground. We had so much time to set up camp that we rigged up a tarp to cover the picnic table for some late-night card games in the rain. (Just a hint, though: Jer is the best player of Egyptian Rat Killer I've ever come across so don't expect to win should you ever come face-to-face with him across a card table.) Pair the good-natured card game fun with some Yuengling beer (from America's oldest brewery), and it was a fine night indeed.

***

I feel I have grown quite accustomed to "roughing it" and will miss the simplicity of setting up and tearing down the tent, scrounging for firewood, and cooking simple meals on the camp stove. I will definitely miss that first sip of camp coffee in the morning.

I like this slower pace of life. I like not showering for days, and sleeping in my clothes, and not looking in the mirror. I enjoy the birds and fireflies that make their home with us as we pass through. I like not compulsively checking my email and facebook.

I like this life on the road.

Driving the hills of West Virginia...but this photo really doesn't do them justice. They were quite lovely.

Happy snappin'.

Our camp site near Weston, West Virginia. A bit soggy but so green and quiet. Can you see Jeremy in this photo?

A proper set-up for some serious card game action.

49 by 29: July 7 - State 49 was fine!

2011-08-11T21:07:00.001-06:00

(If this picture looks familiar, it should. I pulled it off the internet because I forgot to take photos of our more "common" coffee stops...like Starbucks.)

Coffee:
-Camp coffee (Folger's instant brew made on camp stove). Found myself up early today, so I got coffee and breakfast going while Jeremy slept. Enjoyed my coffee and time with God on a log near the river by our tent.
-Starbucks Italian roast in Princeton, West Virginia
Breakfast:
Oatmeal
Lunch:
Half a watermelon
Snack:
Quarter pounder, fries and frosty from Wendy's (our ONLY fast food stop the entire trip!)
Dinner:
Breaded chicken, mashed potatoes, biscuits, and peas at the table of folks we met only an hour before dinner. Thanks, Anthony and Rachel!

From the journal:
We bought a watermelon at a roadside produce stand on our way out of Johnson City, Tennessee, and ate it at a rest area down the road. It wasn't the best watermelon ever, but it certainly wasn't the worst, either. A fun memory.

After the watermelon was consumed, we drove into West Virginia! State 49! Hawaii here I come! Someday...

A family friend put us in touch with his friends Anthony and Rachel in Princeton, West Virginia, and they agreed to let us pitch our tent in their backyard. While waiting for them to return home after work, Jer and I killed time at Starbucks. I was finally able to journal about the robbery. For that I was glad because I desperately needed to "write it out."

Recent newlyweds, Anthony and Rachel had never had guests other than my friend Bob and their own family members. Jer and I felt honored to be their first...especially since they fed us like royalty and offered such kind, listening ears to our tales. I hope they will open their doors again.

After dinner, Anthony let me play his Ibenez acoustic bass. I've always wanted to play an acoustic bass! Yeah! We jammed together on a few songs, and I enjoyed watching Anthony play his guitar, which was so worn it looked like Willie Nelson's beloved Trigger. I love how Christianity and music are two things that can bring people together almost instantly. How cool to share both with strangers--now friends--in the hills of West Virginia.

Camp coffee.

Our campsite at Riverview Campground in northeast Tennessee.

3 seconds to state 49...

49 by 29! Thanks, Jer!

Our backyard bunk in West Virginia.

Jeremy, me, Rachel, and Anthony. Lovely folk. So grateful for their hospitality.

Jam session.

A well-loved guitar.

49 by 29: July 6 - Thou shalt not...

2011-08-09T23:12:00.001-06:00

Coffee:
-Drive-thru coffee from Sonic on our way out of Chattanooga. The "medium" was only 24 ounces or so.
-House blend at City Bakery Cafe in Asheville, North Carolina. Good coffee. Weird town.

From the journal:
Happy Birthday, Mom! I'm sorry to miss it yet again. Want to go to Hawaii with me ON your birthday next year?

Today we drove from Chattanooga (have I mentioned that I love that city yet?) into North Carolina. We stopped at a quirky little place called Fields of the Wood. It was created by the Church of God and features the Ten Commandments, Psalms of praise, a Prayer Mountain with tenants/disciplines of the Christian life, and more...all larger than life. The Ten Commandments are written with slabs of white concrete on the side of a mountain. There was a replica of Jesus' tomb, too. Definitely an oddity, but I have to admire the effort and the...largeness.

We then continued on to the Blue Ridge Parkway south of Asheville, NC. Very windy and quite steep, it offers breathtaking views of rolling layer upon rolling layer of the misty, blue, Blue Ridge Mountains.

Once we made it to Asheville, we walked around town a bit in search of some coffee. We stopped at the Simma Down Caribbean Cafe, totally digging its groove, and were quite surprised to discover this cafe had no coffee. We ended up enjoying a fine cup of coffee and an extra-rich spiced chai at the City Bakery Cafe while deciding on a campground near Boone, NC.

But we never made it to Boone. Jeremy's poor van had been charging up and down twisty mountain roads all day long, and the transmission began complaining. So we turned around, fueled up in Asheville, and re-entered northeast Tennessee to camp at Riverview Campground near Johnson City. Our spot in the back corner behind all the RVs had river access and...a tether ball pole! I love tether ball!

Fields of the Wood Bible Park, Murphy, NC

We climbed all those steps to the very top of the book. It is odd and impressive all at the same time.

Walking up Prayer Mountain at Fields of the Wood in North Carolina.

Replica of the tomb Jesus was buried in for three days.

A little greenery to brighten the dash...

One of the more common sights as a passenger in Levity.

View from Lone Bald Overlook on the Blue Ridge Parkway, North Carolina.

Those mountains are so blue they're purple.

Asheville, NC

49 by 29: July 5 - A good hike and a guest in our tent

2011-08-08T23:29:00.001-06:00

Coffee:
Ethiopian drip brew at Greyfriar's Coffee Shop in Chattanooga, Tennessee. This was a great place! It had a catchy name. The barista was helpful and friendly. There was a varied assortment of tables, chairs, end tables, lamps, and sofas. It featured interesting art on its brick walls. And it served up a mean mug of thick, creamy oatmeal, to boot!

From the journal:
My brother called a little after midnight, and it was good to talk with him, as always. He has an amazing ability to listen to my stories and make me laugh at them, no matter how crazy or terrifying they may be. He said the robbery was our "Fight Club" moment because it would make us look at our lives and do what we really want to do with them.

Anyway, today was a day of rest. I spent some time this morning reading in the Psalms, soaking up God's words of comfort: I have you in the palm of my hand. You are safe. You are fearfully and wonderfully made. I see when you lie down and when you rise. I am with you always.

As the shock of the previous day's events wore off, I was able to cry some tears I desperately wanted to cry. Maybe it's a girl thing, but sometimes there's nothing like a good cry to clear your head.

We spent several hours in Greyfriar's then visited Covenant College on top of Lookout Mountain. We hiked along the Chickamauga Trail near the college, which follows a bluff along Lookout Mountain. We only hiked six miles round-trip, but I got a kick out of the fact that we crossed from Georgia into Tennessee and back again in that distance.

After the hike, we bought groceries, did our laundry at the campground (yay!), and gathered firewood. Jeremy's friend, Joel, came over for our dinner of steak and honey-orange glazed tilapia grilled over our campfire, grilled veggies (zucchini, yellow squash, green pepper, onion, tomato, and pineapple), and a chocolate bar for dessert. We enjoyed some deep campfire conversation that lasted so long into the night Joel decided to just camp out with us! What a joy and privilege to have someone be our guest in our REI Hobbitat tent!

Oh, photos of people imitating signs never get old...

Greyfriar's Coffee Shop, Chattanooga, Tennessee.

Hiking along the Chickamauga Trail on Lookout Mountain. I believe this is a view of Georgia; Tennessee is around the bend.

Be on the lookout for poison ivy and ticks on Lookout Mountain...

49 by 29: July 4 - Traveling mercies

2011-08-07T20:18:00.001-06:00

Coffee:
-Gas station brew from some gas station somewhere in Tennessee circa 4:30 a.m.

-Half breakfast blend, half hazelnut at Panera Bread in Nashville, Tennessee

From the journal:
Author's note: The journal entry for this day is a little too gritty to be appropriate for general audiences. What follows is actually my recounting of the story, via email, to one of my best friends. The journalist in me wants to tell it "as is," but then I wonder what quoting a few F-words and derogatory terms would really add to the tale. What happened, happened. The most important thing now is to let God teach me through what happened and to give Him all the glory for his great love and protection.

***

We got robbed in southwest Tennessee.

On July 3, in an area about 50 miles southeast of Memphis, we tried to find some folks grilling or working outside to ask if we could pitch our tent in their yard. It was something Jeremy had always wanted to try. No one was out and about, so we knocked on a few doors. No one was home. It was getting dark and we were tired; there were no campgrounds nearby, and no Walmarts in which to park our minivan. So, we found a piece of state land that serves as a bird dog training ground, parked in a truck pullout a couple miles from the main highway, and set up our tent. We figured we could at least claim state land if the cops came, but we'd only seen a few cars on the entire road as we were driving and figured no one would even notice us.

At about 1:15 a.m. July 4, a white truck pulled next to our van, stopped momentarily, and pulled away. I woke up and thought it was odd but went back to sleep. It was a truck pullout, after all.

At 1:30 a.m., the same truck pulled about four feet from the front of our tent and shone its headlights straight in. (We didn't have our rain fly on.) Four big guys jumped out, swinging crowbars, and yelling for us to give them all our money. They used a lot rougher language than that, but you get the idea.

I stayed flat on my stomach because I knew if they knew there was a girl in the tent, we'd be in even more trouble. Jeremy sat up, so they came over and started pawing at the wall of the tent near his head. He said we weren't there to hurt anybody, and even asked if we could help them somehow. They answered by threatening to blow our brains out.

Jeremy had a little cash in the tent with him, so he opened his door and handed it out. It wasn't enough. They started screaming at him to get out of the tent and give them more money.

Jeremy got out, saying he had more cash in the van. Three of the guys shoved him to the van, but when he got there he realized the key was in my pocket. I had to sit up to hand it out to him. The three guys pushed him to the van again and made him open the door. They scattered the contents of the glove compartment to get the money out.

Meanwhile, the fourth guy pulled me out of the tent, threatening to rape me. As I was getting out, however, I was able to grab my coin purse, which had about $150 in it. The guy stood behind me, touching me where he shouldn't, while I watched the other guys get rougher and rougher with Jeremy. I was so scared they were going to start beating him.

After what was probably just seconds but felt like forever, God helped me muster some words. I turned to the guy behind me and said, "If I give you all my money will you leave?" He was moaning and enjoying himself too much to hear me the first time, so I repeated the question. He thought about it for a while and finally said, "Yes." I handed him my coin purse, and he stepped away. All four guys jumped into their truck and peeled out, threatening to return for more.

Jer and I started taking down the tent but realized we had to get out of there fast. So we left everything and drove the opposite direction. I called the cops and we spent the next three hours with the officers and a private investigator describing the events and attackers in as much detail as we could remember. They took us back to gather our tent and snap a few photos, and then Jer and I just started driving.

We drove across the entire state of Tennessee, swinging up to Nashville then down to Chattanooga, where Jeremy's good friend, Joel, lives. We enjoyed a wonderful dinner with Joel followed by watching Fourth of July fireworks over the Tennessee River. All in all, we were up for about 25 hours straight. Adrenaline sure does funky things to your body.

Though terrifying, I know God protected us from what could have been a lot worse situation. They got away with about $300 is all. That is NOTHING compared to what could have happened. Jer and I were mentally and emotionally shaken but physically unharmed. I did not get raped. They did not beat Jeremy. We are alive!

What's funny is that Jer and I had listened to a sermon that Sunday by Timothy Keller about Godly attitudes toward money. It is not ours; it is God's. We must hold all that we have with open hands. (I suppose the robbery was the object lesson...) As Jer put it: "Little did they know they were soliciting prayers." He and I (and our friends and family) can now pray for these four guys, which is way more than they were probably bargaining for. These guys are part of our lives now, and we are granted the privilege of praying for them. That's way more justice than can ever be worked in our human court system.

***

"Little did they know they were soliciting prayers."
~Jeremy

The Lord is close to all who call on him, yes to all who call on him in truth. He grants the desires of those who fear him; he hears their cries for help and rescues them.
~Psalm 145:18-19

Our camp site southeast of Memphis. As night fell, fireflies danced in the trees. I wish Wyoming had fireflies.

Ramen dinner.

Rendezvous with authorities in the wee hours of July 4.

Driving across Tennessee into the sunrise.

Great brewery in Chattanooga, Tennessee.

Bison burger, sweet potato fries, oatmeal stout. Happy 4th, indeed!

Jeremy's friend, Joel, introduced us to The Terminal Brewhouse. He is headed to the Ukraine this fall to be a missionary. Isn't that cool? Check out his blog here.

Theater and opera house in Chattanooga.

Cool fountain in a cool park in Chattanooga. I fell in LOVE with this city.

Tennessee River at night.

Winding walkway as seen from a pedestrian bridge over the Tennessee River.

City park with fountain and carousel as seen from pedestrian bridge.

Enjoying Fourth of July fireworks over the Tennessee River in Chattanooga.

49 by 29: July 3 - State 48 was great!

2011-08-04T23:59:00.001-06:00

Coffee:
Camp coffee!

From the journal:
I checked off state 48! Arkansas down! Kudos and thanks to Jeremy!

We drove into Little Rock today, ate lunch while listening to a Tim Keller sermon on Godly attitudes toward money and giving, and just took it easy for a few hours. I walked around in the 100-degree heat while Jeremy talked to one of his sisters whom he'd been trying to connect with for a while.

We found the Little Rock, or "La Petite Roche," as it was called by the European settlers on the La Salle Expedition in 1682. The rock, and the bluffs behind the rock, became a welcome sight in the wilderness for all future expeditions rolling down the Arkansas River, looking for a friendly place to land. By 1821, Little Rock became the seat of the new territorial government, and by 1831, it was incorporated as a city.

The Little Rock is now part of a city park along the river. It is quite little and unimpressive, as many monuments tend to be. Still, I can appreciate the history behind it, and I'm glad we made the effort to find it.

Overall, Little Rock had some nice buildings and parks (most with a presidential theme to their names), but it didn't make a big impact on me. It is fascinating how some cities and landscapes hold energy and life, and others don't as much. It would be fun to write a book about the character of America's cities. Then again, it's all subjective. I may think Little Rock is a politician or accountant--and thus boring--while another soul may admire its clean-cut, 8 to 5 vibe. I guess I just like my cities on the grittier side.

We are now crossing the mighty Mississippi into Memphis, and will head south to try our luck at finding a kind soul who will let us pitch our tent on their Tennessee farmland.

Loved waking up to this view every morning!

State 48! Get it? 4-8. Yeah, that's an 8 we're making with our hands. A bit of a stretch, perhaps, but fun all the same. Thanks, Jer!

The Arkansas River.

The Quapaw Indians were friendly and welcoming to explorers...or so the story goes.

Good way to cool off when it's over 100 degrees outside.

Little Rock.

One of Jeremy's famed upside down shots.

49 by 29: July 2 - Crescent City Cafe

2011-08-03T22:28:00.001-06:00

Coffee:
Had about two sips before Jer and I spent a couple hours volunteering at Crescent City Cafe in New Orleans. That was it for the day. And, yes, I had a headache later. No photo. Too busy :).

From the journal:
Jeremy and I woke up early this morning to volunteer at Crescent City Cafe, a grassroots, nonprofit organization with a simple mission: to serve the marginalized people of New Orleans with dignity, in love.

On the first Saturday of each month, the sanctuary of Rayne Memorial United Methodist Church is transformed into Crescent City Cafe--complete with dark blue linen table cloths, fine white dishes, and silverware neatly wrapped in cloth napkins. By 7:15 a.m., volunteers are whipping up a gourmet breakfast in the kitchen while wait staff and hosts set the tables, brew coffee, pour water, and prepare to serve the 100 or more guests who will dine that day.

Guests often arrive way before the first seating at 8:30. They huddle around the door, reveling in the smell of bacon and eggs and other breakfast goods wafting under their noses. As it is often sticky hot already, they are given a glass of cold water while they wait and engaged in friendly chit-chat (my job). As soon as the food is ready, a host or hostess seats the guests and breakfast begins.

A waiter or waitress takes each guest's order, pours their coffee and juice, and serves up a hearty portion of cornbread pancakes with bacon and fried apples, lemon ricotta stuffed French toast, or whatever gourmet treat is on the menu that day. When possible, volunteers sit with guests and offer a respectful, listening ear.

By 10 a.m., guests have departed with full bellies, and, hopefully, the knowledge that they are loved by God and by the young volunteers who served them that day. The dishes are washed, the tables put away, and planning begins for next month's meal.

It's a simple concept, really, conveyed in a straightforward way. While food banks do a good job of meeting the physical hunger of the city's homeless, the leaders of the Crescent City Cafe wanted to meet their emotional hunger, as well. Serving someone a homecooked meal is an excellent way to show them you have noticed their desire for dignity and affirmation. And it gives the guests at least one thing to look forward to each month.

Footnote:
It was so great to be part of this effort to BE Jesus to some of our nation's most overlooked people. For more information on the Crescent City Cafe, go here.

***

After breakfast, Jer and I took off. We grabbed a hot roast beef Po Boy Sandwich on our way out of town (at $9 it seems the Po Boy is no longer for po boys), and followed Highway 61 over the southwest corner of Mississippi and through the heartland of Louisiana, passing this land's ubiquitous swamps and bayous all the way.

Arkansas here I come!

Rolling silverware before assuming my duty as water girl at Crescent City Cafe.

Jeremy cooking up some gourmet at Crescent City Cafe.

On the road again...

Our camping site at Chemin-A-Haut State Park in northern Louisiana. First time we broke out the 4-man REI Hobbitat tent. It felt like a mansion...

49 by 29: July 1 - Eat, drink, and be merry in NOLA

2011-08-02T21:48:00.002-06:00

Coffee:
-House blend in a mug from Il Posto, a quaint neighborhood coffee shop in New Orleans. Good atmosphere. Decent coffee. Not so comfy chairs.

-Breakfast blend in a to-go cup at Community Coffee House on Magazine Street. Sat outside and watched the world go by.

From the journal:
After walking around New Orleans' French Quarter last night, I must say the West feels a bit bland. I mean, I know we have vibrant beauty in our mountains and rivers, but we really do lack culture. And balcony gardens. And purple and yellow houses.

Sometimes when I am traveling, I have these "snapshot" moments where my brain takes a picture of whatever or whoever it is I do not want to forget. My brain was on rapid fire last night as we wandered along the Mississippi River and down Bourbon Street:

The workers, in white coats and baker's hats, making beignets at Cafe Du Monde...as seen through a window around the back of the cafe.
Candles flickering in the night at the tables of fortune tellers.
Two boys drumming on a park bench beside the Mighty Mississippi.
A boy tap dancing on a corner of Bourbon Street.
The sound of jazz, of trumpets and saxophones and guitars, blaring from nearly every bar, pub, grill, and strip joint on Bourbon.
The colorful beads draped over tree branches, porch railings, and power lines along Saint Charles Street.

New Orleans is one of the most vibrant cities I've ever been in. Eat. Drink. Be merry.

For tomorrow we die.

New Orleans is also a city that seems to be accustomed to death. Its dead are buried above the ground in crumbling neighborhood cemeteries. Skulls and voodoo are sold as a commodity on the streets and in the stores. Its houses are marked with how many died inside in the wake of Hurricane Katrina.

And yet, the city is alive--with dancing, with laughter, with chatter, with music.

It mourns and rejoices in the same breath. It is a living example of Ecclesiastes.

Anyway, enough rambling. I think I would need years to absorb this city with all its color, and culture, and brokenness. But I shall have to be content with a few days.

Beautiful balcony gardens in the French Quarter.

Il Posto Coffee Shop.

Bourbon Street.

Neighborhood graveyard.

Big casa.

Colorful casa.

Remnants of Mardi Gras.

49 by 29: June 30, part 2 - 8th ward, Cafe Du Monde, and jazz

2011-08-02T21:11:00.001-06:00

Coffee:

Cafe Au Lait at Cafe Du Monde in New Orleans.

This coffee is renowned for a reason! It is 1/2 hot coffee, 1/2 hot milk, and all goodness. During their civil war back in the 1700s, the French added chicory--the root of the lettuce-like plant, endive--to their coffee to soften its bitter edge and make it stretch when the coffee harvest was scarce. Cafe Du Monde continues this tradition with each cup of Cafe Au Lait. The roasted and ground chicory adds a mellow chocolate flavor to their coffee. Enjoy it with some sugar-dusted French beignets in a dimly lit outdoor cafe with a good friend, and Cafe Du Monde is practically coffee heaven!

From the journal:

I am now writing from New Orleans. We arrived about 1:30 p.m. and did a driving tour.

Seeing the 8th Ward, which was devastated by Hurricane Katrina five years ago now, was...sobering. Jeremy pointed out the black and red spray-painted symbols on the walls of the houses that indicated how many people had been found dead inside, what damage was found, and other sad tidbits.

I found it hard to think or say much of anything. They were such lingering, poignant reminders of tragedy.

On the other hand, in stark contrast to the dilapidated houses, it was good to see life carrying on as children played in a nearby schoolyard, people chatted on their porches, and bikes zipped past.

After the 8th Ward, we drove through the French Quarter. It felt like a vibrant foreign city. I LOVED it and can't wait to see more!

8th Ward, New Orleans, Louisiana

This is a house that Jeremy helped build with Samaritan's Purse when he went through New Orleans on his 50-state tour.

The Mississippi River in New Orleans.

49 by 29: June 30, part 1 - The ocean makes me feel small

2011-08-02T13:00:00.001-06:00

Coffee:

16 oz. house blend from Coffeeheads in Alabama. A quiet, colorful shop at the edge of a small pedestrian mall. Friendly barista. Thumbs up.

From the journal:
Since I last wrote, we've hit two more states: Alabama and Mississippi. I liked Alabama; it had a laid back, low key feel, and I enjoyed watching idealic farmlands zip past the window looking sometimes like a checkerboard and sometimes like a zebra.

We have also passed a lot of Waffle House restaurants. And they're always packed. Guess these Southerners like their waffles.

Yesterday we left the campground about 11 a.m., put $60 of gas in the van, and drove along the coast of the Florida panhandle. Breathtaking.

We stopped for a couple hours at Panama City Beach. I put on sunscreen, but my poor, white Wyoming skin still couldn't handle all the rays. I read for a bit but mostly enjoyed people watching and a few attempts at body surfing. I got pounded! One wave pushed me under so forcefully I scraped my hip on the bottom.

The ocean makes me feel small. One wave in just over five feet of water took me under and left me scrambling for air. When I consider wave upon wave upon wave, I am crushingly aware of the vastness of God.

Just imagine if my awareness stopped there, though: A vast, crushing God who leaves me scrambling for air. I am so glad God is a God of love, a God whose love is bigger than the waves, the oceans, the mountains, the sky.

After leaving the beach, we drove to Gulf Islands National Seashore on Perdido Key...one of the lesser known Florida Keys. We camped on the beach and enjoyed a starry night next to a campfire while listening to the rhythmic sound of the tide coming in. We awoke to a beautiful sunrise over the beach.

Is this for real?

49 by 29: June 29 - Driving the panhandle

2011-07-31T21:13:00.002-06:00

Coffee:
Camp coffee: i.e. instant Folger's made with water boiled on Jeremy's camp stove.

From the journal:
We are driving along the Gulf of Mexico as I write this. Windows down. Love it!

Last night, we blew past our original destination by 80 miles before realizing it. Ha! So we kept going until Ochlockonee River State Park, where we were able to camp for $4 per night. Sure beats $30 at an RV park!

Set up camp in the dark and ate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for dinner at 9:30 p.m.

I didn't sleep real well, but I am doing alright. Travel works like caffeine on me. I am on a road trip with a good friend. It doesn't get much better.

Home sweet home.

A drive through a Florida forest near our campsite.

Boardwalk to my first chance to dip my toes into the Gulf.

Because 18 mph is just too fast.

Looked like a cool place...perhaps a tad unsteady, though.

49 by 29: June 28 - The journey begins

2011-07-30T15:43:00.001-06:00

Hotel coffee on way to airport at 4 a.m.

Starbucks coffee in Minneapolis airport.

Airplane coffee on flight from Billings to Minneapolis and Minneapolis to Orlando.

Coffee:
-Hotel coffee in back seat of car on way to airport at 4:30 a.m.

-Starbucks in Minneapolis airport

-Delta blend on Delta plane

From the journal:
Early flight out of Billings, MT: 6 a.m. I was up at 3:45 a.m. to shower and make it to the airport on time. I am definitely feeling it now. I should take a nap before arriving in Orlando and driving another 5 hours with Jeremy!

And so, the adventure begins. 49 by 29, as I'm calling it. I am on a quest to check off Arkansas and West Virginia, and I am delighted that Jeremy has so readily agreed to help me. I think we'll be great travel partners.

I must sleep...really must. Goodnight.

49 by 29: a journey with jeremy

2011-07-30T15:26:00.000-06:00

My good friend Joanna gave me a just-because gift last year that I've been saving to use at a truly special time. It was a journal titled "WANDERLUST" with photos of coffee on the cover.

Her note explaining the gift read: "I saw this and couldn't resist. It encompasses 3 of your favorite things! I hope that you drink lots of coffee in lots of different places while filling the pages. Love you!"

When I decided to go "Steinbeck Style" on my most recent journey, I knew the journal would be perfect.

And it was.

I drank lots of coffee in lots of different places while filling the pages.

I also took photos of (most) every cup of coffee to emulate the journal's cover. I am going to use those photos to organize my posts about the adventure. Neat, eh? I mean, we saw some awesome sights, but would you look at all that glorious coffee?!?!

I jest. But I hope you enjoy the coming stream of posts anyway.

Without any further ado...

49 by 29: a journey with jeremy

Steinbeck style revisited

2011-07-12T12:55:00.000-06:00

I must admit I am truly enjoying my low-tech approach to this journey. I've been journaling daily, reveling in the introspection that pen, paper, and coffee can offer to a writer.

And yet, I have guilt. The journalist in me cringes at the fact that blogging and posting photos upon my return is akin to publishing old news. Eek. The horrors.

I guess at this point I shall have to ask you to stick it out with me. Just look at it like I'm following a magazine deadline.

P.S. In case any are wondering, I am in Pittsburgh visiting my long-time friend, Jared, and enjoying a few days of down time. Today has been spent walking, ducking into cute boutiques, writing postcards, and sipping on Earl Gray tea at the Te Cafe in Squirrel Hill. Absolutely lovely.

49 by 29

2011-07-09T10:57:00.000-06:00

I am composing this blog from the Blue Moose Cafe in Morgantown, West Virginia.

State 49.

By 29.

I feel so blessed to have this chance to see so much of our nation. I am truly grateful to my friend Jeremy for joining me (and driving me) on this adventure.

And what an adventure it has been...

We've seen the love and beauty the human spirit can hold. We've seen brokenness. We've seen hope. And we've seen the poverty of spirits that are driven by greed.

Yes, I have a story behind that last statement. But I'm not quite ready to write it yet. For now I'll say a big thank you for your prayers, assure you all is well, and leave you hanging because we need to hit the road again. There is more to see, always more to see...

NOLA

2011-07-01T10:34:00.000-06:00

I am blogging from an iPad. I feel so tech savvy. I also feel like I am learning how to type all over again. And I feel old.

Anyway, Jer and I are in New Orleans...or NOLA as it is sometimes called. I am currently enjoying a very fine cup of coffee in a little cafe called Il Posto. For how exotic this city is, though, it is not hard to imagine I am sitting in a quaint cafe in France.

So far, the trip has been dandy. We camped on a beach on Perdido Key, FL, and enjoyed gazing at the stars next to our campfire while listening to ocean waves crash upon the shore. We explored the 8th Ward and walked Bourbon Street in NOLA. Tonight and tomorrow we are helping prepare and serve breakfast to the homeless at Crescent City Cafe. Please pray we will be God's hands and feet in this endeavor.

We do not know where we will camp out after tonight...and I love it. I have lost track of time and day. I love how life on the road makes one live in the moment.

John Steinbeck style

2011-06-27T09:38:00.000-06:00

After much consideration, I've decided to go old school.

To keep my load light and to avoid spending hours each day uploading photos, editing them, and composing wildly entertaining blogs, I am leaving my computer at home.

Don't get me wrong; I love blogging. I imagine I will go through some minor withdrawals. But I decided that on this journey I would prefer to take my pen and my journal and spend some time observing and listening and writing down rambling thoughts. I used to be an avid diary-filler, doodler, and poet. As my life has sped up and gotten more entangled with technology, I've lost touch with that introspective side of me a bit.

I want it back. I really do.

And so, dear readers, I will miss you. But I promise to fill these cyberspace pages when I return. Also, my travel partner has offered me use of his computer now and again, so I may check in every once in a while.

But mostly, I'm going to be out chronicling our journey old school style. John Steinbeck style. Jack Kerouac style. Mark Twain style. You get the point.

Say a prayer for me as I bid you adieu! And I'll say a prayer for you, too.

(I'm a poet and didn't know it...)

Sweet Pea

2011-06-27T09:14:00.000-06:00

I've never been one to nickname things or give endearing pet names to loved ones. I like the practice and feel honored when given a name by another, but it just doesn't come naturally to me.

Or perhaps I should say, "didn't come naturally to me." That changed when I held my first niece, my little Sweet Pea, for the first time. The name just popped out, conveying the overwhelming sense of awe and love I felt for this little life in my arms. I feel so lucky to be an aunt, and I'm looking forward to watching little Maria grow up...since we all know it's bound to happen someday :).

Without any further ado, here are a few snapshots from our trip to see Andy and Marianne and the newest member of the Wiest family.

Blessed to be a Grandpa!

Blessed to be a Grandma!

I'm an Auntie!

You're the greatest, Mom!

Daddy's little girl.

Photo by Cindy Wiest

Photo by Marianne Wiest

The Wiest Family

Photo by Marianne Wiest

Scheming road trips

2011-06-21T22:47:00.000-06:00

I dropped a hint in a recent post that I was scheming a road trip. I also promised I'd have "more on that at a later date."

It's a later date, and I finally have a few moments to sit down with some tea and fill ya'll in. (I'm sure you've been waiting with baited breath... *sarcasm*).

Actually, in all honesty, I am realizing it's not very big news anymore when I announce some crazy travel plans. I'm not totally sure what to do with that realization, but it's true. The fact that I travel is no longer novel. Like some women buy shoes, or manicures, or hair dye, I buy tickets and travel books and people know this. They smile and nod when I tell them about my next grand adventure and probably secretly think I should just settle down.

But, hey, it ain't time for that yet. There's an awfully big world out there. And Arkansas and West Virginia are part of it.

Yes, you read correctly. I am headed to Arkansas and West Virginia. In July.

Mad? Perhaps. But there's a reason for the madness: Last summer, going to Alaska put my state count at 47 and the knowledge that I only had THREE left has plagued me ever since. For years, I was sitting in the low- to mid-forties and always vaguely thought, "Someday...," like when I'm 60.

But Alaska did me in. And the fact that 49 by 29 rhymed just put me over the edge. It has to be done.

Why Arkansas and West Virginia? you ask. The answer is simple. If I went to Hawaii this summer, I'd have to someday have my honeymoon in...Arkansas. Not cool. Actually, that's how I convinced my boss to let me off for an entire month. I instilled in her a deep and very real fear that if she didn't let me mark these states off now, I would hold her solely responsible for my album of honeymoon photos showing me and my beloved kissing on the steps of the Bill Clinton Presidential Library. (Thanks for being so chill, Kathy! I'll bring you a shot glass emblazoned with a photo of the Little Rock or something else that's really great! *Sarcasm*).

I digress. A lot.

Actually, I'm really stoked for this trip. The South practically feels like a foreign country to me. I'm truly excited to camp on the beach in Florida, and listen to jazz in New Orleans, and eat BBQ in Arkansas, and tromp through Davey Crockett country, and gaze at the smoky Smoky Mountains. I'll see my good friend Jared in Pittsburgh and, hopefully, visit the Newseum in Washington, D.C. The journalist in me can hardly wait to soak up rooms and rooms of facts and tidbits about newspapers, magazines, and all things newsy. And, to top it all off, I'll end my journey at the wedding ceremony of two super-duper good friends in Indianapolis. (Can't wait Sarah and Ben!)

But you want to know the absolutely BEST part about this journey? I'm not doing it alone!!!!!!!!!! My dear friend Jeremy--who recently finished a 50-state, 10-Canadian-province, multi-city-European tour--is joining me. Or, more accurately, I'm joining him since he's driving. I'll fly to Orlando, where he's been working on a farm, and we'll wander our way to his home turf of Delaware/Philly/south Jersey. It took very little effort to convince him my trip idea would be just a small, little "detour" on his trek home. YOU'RE THE GREATEST, JER!!!! Seriously. I am so thankful and so excited to travel with you! (By the way, Jeremy's blog is quite entertaining. Check it out here.)

Anyway, that's about it. I'm on the move again, and though I don't expect folks to get excited for me, I would love it if they prayed for us. We will be helping to prepare and serve breakfast at a cafe that serves the homeless in New Orleans and doing our best to encourage both friends and strangers we meet along the way. Jeremy and I both love God like crazy and desire to bring Him glory with our lives, so I would love it if you prayed for our thoughts and conversations and plans and day-to-day interactions.

Thanks, and I'll keep you posted!

Happy Dad's Day!

2011-06-19T07:51:00.000-06:00

Dear Dad,
For working so hard to make sure our family always had food on the table, clothes on our back, and shelter over our head, I thank you.
For all the Saturday morning breakfasts, I thank you.
For reading to me and Andy when we were children, I thank you. By sharing your love of good words and good stories, I think Andy and I have both learned to speak carefully and make sure we are living stories worth telling.
For your encouraging letters and emails, I thank you. I re-read them often.
For not being too overprotective, I thank you. I am glad you trusted me enough and God enough to let me pursue adventures and take risks.
For gearing up to go backpacking this summer, I thank you. I am looking forward to trekking through God's mountains with you!
For all the places you've driven us, I thank you. I know there have been some long hours behind the wheel.
For welcoming me back home, I thank you. It is good to feel protected.
For noticing my new hat last night, I thank you. I think every girl wants her Dad to think she's pretty. You've always been good about noticing my outfits and telling me I look nice.
For loving Mom, I thank you.
For loving me, I thank you.
For teaching me about God, I thank you. And for loving God, I thank you even more.
Love you for always,
Hannah

Dad helping me out with some backcountry Census Bureau work.

Dad and Dodger.

Mom and Dad at Snooze in Denver. Must say this was one of the best Saturday morning breakfasts ever!

Me and Dad kayaking on Flathead Lake.

Me and Dad at Burgess Junction in the Big Horn Mountains on Memorial Day 2011.

Dad, son, and granddaughter.

Blessed to be a Grandpa!

Dad and Maria.

We love you, Dad!

Vi are you not varing zee Lycra?

2011-05-30T22:05:00.000-06:00

I know they say love is the best feeling in the entire world, but I'd have to say a close second is that of laughing until you cry. Now, I'm not talking just a wet spot in the corner of the eyes. I'm talking genuine tears. Snorting. Hyperventilating for lack of air in the lungs. A better abdominal workout in four minutes than you can get in an hour of yoga.

And it's even better when it takes you by surprise.

The other night, I was sitting on the floor of my bathroom, brushing my teeth and reading a book--just my usual bedtime ritual. The book had been entertaining already, but that night's passage had me rolling.

As an author, I know how challenging it is to write truly funny prose. It takes skill. And so, I'm going to share the excerpt in full. If you like it a lot, go buy the book. It's a good read. If you don't like it enough to buy the book, I hope it at least brings you a smile (and a snort or two.)

The book: The Hungry Cyclist: Pedalling the Americas in Search of the Perfect Meal
The author: British writer, cyclist, and food lover, Tom Kevill-Davies
Tom's website: http://www.thehungrycyclist.com/

Thank you, Mr. Davies, for the laughs and for making me want to ride off on an adventure of my own. (By the way, if you happen to find this you should know a few things: I really enjoyed your videos and photos from your trek along the Mekong in Laos, as I've been there myself; I love your book; we're about the same age; and my mom thinks we should go on a date.)

Please enjoy this snippet from pages 255-257 in, "The Hungry Cyclist":

It was as I was taking a bite from a bunuelo that the unmistakable outline of another cycle tourist became recognisable on the crest of the hill. Running from the shade of the trees, shouting and waving my arms like a crazed groupie, crumbs of breakfast spewing from my mouth, I gestured towards him and towards my bicycle as if to say, 'Look, look, I'm one of your lot.' But it became very clear, very quickly that, as cycle tourists go, Torsten, a middle-aged German, and myself had come from very different moulds.

'Desayuno?' I suggested, handing Torsten a delightfully warm arepa wrapped in a grease-stained paper napkin. 'No,' he replied unequivocally, pulling a plastic sack of what appeared to be birdseed and a bruised banana from the bag between his handlebars.

'Cafe?'

'No!' came another stern negative, and I watched his prominent Adam's apple bounce up and down as he emptied what remained of a bottle of fluorescent-pink energy drink into his mouth.

Cycle tourists are like dogs, and with our brief introduction over we began sniffing each other's bottoms. How much weight are you carrying? What pedals are you using? Caliper or disk brakes? Drop handlebars or flat? Slick tyres or knobbly ones? A derailleur or internal gear system? Sniff, sniff.

Torsten's bicycle was brilliantly clean. Every dirt-free component glistened in the sun as though it had just come out of the box. His minimal equipment was meticulously packed in four clean Ortlieb panniers. His entire setup was as spotless and streamlined as he was, and together Torsten and his bicycle were a testament to German efficiency. I was not. As he ran his questioning eyes over my untidy rig, I could hear the white-coated technicians in his mind tutting in baffled disbelief at the dirty, overloaded, scruffy excuse for a cyclist and bicycle that stood before him.

'Vas is das?' I heard them say as he took in my colourful collection of souvenir stickers, which must have added a few grams of extra weight. 'Vas is dis?' they proclaimed at the chunky plastic hamburger bell, leather dream catcher, rosary beads and the various other lucky charms and trinkets that hung from my handlebars, weighing me down further.

'And vi are you not varing zee Lycra. Nein nein nein, Zis is very inefficient.'

This silent ritual over with, Torsten unclipped his multi-buttoned digital cycle computer and thrust it towards my face. 'Alaska!' he barked proudly, displaying his total distance. A figure close to 12,000 miles. 'Six meses,' he then broadcast in Spanglish. I hung my head in shame. In six months Torsten had cycled the same distance it had taken me over a year to cover. And it showed. We could not have looked any more different. Short, overweight, unshaven and clad in baggy shorts and a crusty, sweat-stained T-shirt, I was the antithesis of the man who towered over me. All elbows and knees, his tall, gangly frame of bones and sinew was tightly packed in a figure-hugging fluorescent Lycra outfit that accentuated every one of his lumps and bumps in disturbing detail. An oversized helmet dwarfed his long, thin face. He gave the impression of a man ready to be fired from a cannon in a circus.

We were an odd couple, but with Torsten's tortured Spanglish and my small anthology of German picked up from old war films, we established that we were heading the same way and would ride on together. 'Schnell! Schnell!' I cried, climbing back into the saddle. Leaving behind a bemused crowd of breakfasting locals, who had witnessed this bizarre roadside union, we rode together into the foothills of the Andes and towards Colombia's second city. Medellin.

Thankful for...

2011-05-26T12:55:00.000-06:00

Kiwis at 3 for $1.00
hummus cause it's yummus

Seeing a friend I haven't seen in a long time and having it feel like we had lunch together last week.

paper towels for wiping up the dribbles from those juicy kiwis
(3 for one dollar!)

My job.
My house.
My Tevas.

Shampoo.

A mom and dad who exceed my expectations every day

My NIECE, my beautiful, beautiful Maria.
My brother who makes being a new dad look like the most joyful experience ever.

Scheming for road trips...more on that at a later date...

Friends whom I miss dearly.
Friends who fill my heart with joy just by thinking about them.

Coffee mugs.
Wait for it.............
Yeah, coffee, too.

Pandora.

Ice cream at Kendrik Park...one dollar per scoop of deliciousness.

Rhythm.
Dancing in the office.

Bridges.

Life!!!!!

and last but certainly not least...tiny cutting boards.

Green is good

2011-05-19T20:10:00.000-06:00

I have made it no secret how much I dislike rain and gray skies. They make me feel cold and depressed. They make me not want to be outside...even though I know I should just get out there anyway.

Like much of the rest of the world, Wyoming has been getting dumped on recently. Our dry, desert lands are flooding.

BUT, I am happy to report that I had a non-Eeyore moment about the rain today. I looked outside the car and was dazzled by the sight of vibrant green lawns sliding past the window.

Absolutely dazzled. Green is good.

Cooking for loved ones

2011-05-15T08:20:00.000-06:00

These photos are a bit late, but I wanted to post them anyway because, well, it was a great day and I love this family.

Our pastor's family came over for Easter dinner. They are just about the coolest people. I love their honesty and straighforwardness. Their kids, all four of 'em, are sharp and fun and kind and humble.

My mom and I decided to go big for this meal...just for kicks. We made a crown roast, which is essentially a rack of ribs rolled into a crown. We stuffed it with apricot stuffing. We made apricot candied carrots and a fancy-schmancy salad. For dessert, I made Oreo cookie salad and a frozen dark chocolate mocha mouse cake.

It was a meal I was proud of, but more than that, it was a chance to go crazy in the kitchen out of love for another. Is there anything better or more fun than cooking for those you love? It is such a joy.

I was too busy hustling and bustling about the kitchen to snap many photos, but here are a few...just for kicks.

My folks and I broke our water fast for Living Water International with a delicious French press on Easter morning.

Putting the crown roast in the oven. Yummm...

My mom and dad, Monica, Hannah, Michael, Maggie, Josiah and Pastor Ron. What a great meal with some great folks!