So, I have one more backpedaling blog post that I wanted to write.  This is what happens when you are out of touch with technology for a week.  It felt pretty good to do that, but then when you come back and realize that you are behind on things, well, it never really balances out.  At least I can try.

So, upon my return from Ithaca I met my brother in the Salt Lake City airport as he just flew in for the week.  The idea for the week was to do some backpacking in the wilderness around here.  the original plan was to head up to Grand Teton National Park but the weather outlook up there was not so great.  This was a little unfortunate as we had made some pretty good plans for heading up to GTNP, but in the name of safety and such we decided to make a change.

We spent the better part of a day over at REI looking at books and maps and trying to plan a new location and route to hike.  We decided to head up to the High Uintas in the northeast part of Utah.  The weather was supposed to be better there and it is a lot closer to home, so less driving.  We picked up some additional gear and food, and rented some warmer sleeping bags and then went back home to pack for the adventure.

With our packs loaded into the car we headed off into the mountains.  We got off the highway in a small town in Wyoming whose name I don’t remember.  Then we drove out into the middle of nowhere.  We followed a dirt road for quite a while, back across the state line into Utah finally ending up in a snow covered campground.  We passed maybe one car on the way in, probably hunters.  The campground was totally empty, though there were some old tire tracks in the snow.

We set up camp for the first night in the campground.  For both my brother and I, this was our first winter camping experience.  Pitching camp in the snow and cold takes a little more effort than sumer camping.  We packed out an area for the tent with our snowshoes and then pitched the tent.  Cooking in the cold is not much different than other backpacking cooking, it is just cold sitting out in the snow.

Even in long underwear, ski pants, and the zero degree sleeping bag it still got pretty cold cold at night.  We even had two of us in a pretty small tent.  It wasn’t unbearable, but it was cold.  It also snowed for the better part of the night which was a very interesting sound on the tent.  Amazingly, I slept pretty well and the morning brought a fresh blanket of snow and a beautiful sunrise.  It was truly a spectacular morning.

Sunrise over the China Meadows Campground

After making breakfast we broke camp, packed our bags and started our trek off into the wilderness.  Hiking in snowshoes is significantly more difficult and slower than a normal hike.  It certainly was beautiful out.  Right sun, and white snow, and no one else in in sight, not even tracks.  Over the day we hiked  about four miles and towards the end of the day I think that pulled a muscle or something in my leg.  So we found a suitable location to make camp and set up for the night.

The location we found was in a beautiful field broken up by a frozen river.  We decided to play it safe and bear-camp, so we cooked dinner away from the tent and hung all our food out off a tree.  We didn’t really know if it was bear territory or not, but we figured better safe than sorry.  The night was colder than the last, probably due to the fact that there was no cloud cover.

While it might have been cold, I still slept well, the real problem was that I woke up still very achy.  It was very strange, because I do a good bit of hiking and I am pretty active, I suppose it just happens sometimes.  So we decided that the best course of action was to hike back out instead of continuing the trek because we didn’t want to get in any serious trouble.  So we spent the day hiking back to the car.  Overall, aside from my going gimpy, we had a great hike and a lot of fun.

After we got back to the car we decided to call my uncle to see if we could stay at his place in Park City.  With his OK we made our way to the condo.  It was nice to be there, but after taking showers, making dinner and running some laundry, one of the hot water heaters decided to burst.  We were sitting watching a movie and I thought I heard water running and when i went into the utility room I had to wade through an inch or so of water and get under a geyser of water to find the shut off valve.

So, the rest of the night was spent on the phone with my uncle and then trying to get maintenance in to take care of things.  There was a lot of water, it had made it ways down through the floor into the crawl space where the furnace is and even seeped out into the common hallway of the condo complex.  Luckily there was no water in the house, it was pretty confined.  So the late night maintenance people came in and did a lot of vacuuming and cleaning.  The next day they got the plumber in to look at things and figure out what to do.  A real adventure.  All thins considered, according to the plumber, the disaster was inevitable, so it was a good thing we were there.

While the flood was not part of the plan for my brother’s vacation, it didn’t dampen spirits too much.  He went out and hiked on Saturday while I dealt with the plumber and such and then the next day we headed up Little Cottonwood Canyon for one last hike before he had to leave on Sunday.  So, we did get in a bunch of what we had planned, the hiking and camping, interspersed with other adventures.  It was a fun bit of time off.

So that is why I was so out of touch with the nets last week.  It was worth it, an adventure!

Inspired by prompt number five over at Mama Kat’s Writer’s Workshop: “What summer means to your family.”  I do have to say, I consider myself very lucy because I have a job where I get the summers off, so I can actually do things in the summer.

If you actually follow my blog you probably can see that I spend a lot of time (especially lately) talking about summer camp.  Camp is what I do for the summer and what I have done for the summer since 1994 (overnight camp that is).  I missed three summers at camp due to college and work, but other than that I have been a camper or staff regularly.  I also did day-camp pre ’94, but I seem to not usually count that in my camp experience, though it was a fun time and I do remember bits and pieces of it.

When I talk about camp, I really do think of the camp community as family.  In fact, there were a couple times when I almost used the words “camp family” in the first paragraph of this post.  Thankfully, my real family saw the wonderful things that camp had to offer and decided to send me to camp.  I suppose I should also be thankful that I also enjoyed being at camp.  There are very few things that I would rather be doing during the summer than being at camp.

I have been to three different overnight camps, one as a camper from 1994-2001 and two as staff.  The camp that I currently work for is actually two camps, a boys and a girls camp called Indian and Forest Acres (respectively).  Since the first day that I set foot on the campus at IA and FA I have felt welcome and at home.  The people here really are like my extended family or my summer family.  It is so amazing how that happens, to walk in to a new place and to feel accepted and welcomed in like family is just unbelievable, and that is one of the most special things about these camps.  There are people here who I know that I could call on when I need something at any time of the year.  These are people who I see for only two months out of the year but they mean a great deal to me.

So, when I think about what summer means to my family, it is really a twofold question.  To my biological family it is usually a time to relax, take some time off from work, watch the dogs play, and spend time together.  We spend time at our home in New Hampshire and go hiking and such and we also often spend time at my uncle’s home on Martha’s Vineyard.  It is a time to go to baseball games with my grandparents who have been taking us grandkids since we were old enough to walk.  Going to the Red Sox games is always an experience with my grandparents and it is a lot of fun.  It is something I look forward to every summer.

To my camp family, summer is life.  We like to say that we spend ten months of the year looking forward to the two that we live together.  As soon as you step foot back on camp you feel like you never left, and even the campers who are new get welcomed with hugs and open arms.  The summer for this family is a time of learning, growing, bonding, and fun.  Amazing lifetime friendships are kindled and every summer, without fail, every camper and staff member discovers something new about himself/herself and his/her friends.  In some ways I feel like camp is really the time and place that you can really be who you are and who you want to be.  Staff and campers here do things that they would never do in front of or with their friends at home.

Summer is a time to be free, to run around and play.  It is a great time of year to explore both the world around us and ourselves, and I hope that it will always be something that I can really take advantage of!

For 18 years I grew up living just outside of Boston.  Then I went to college, worked on a cruise ship and moved to Salt Lake City.  needless to say, since high school I have spent less and less time around the Boston Area.  I was never great with getting around in Boston, there are few people who really are (my father happens to be one of those people).  I knew how to get from home to the places that I frequented, though generally I got around places west of Boston better than Boston itself.

So, here I am, back for a week visiting family and in town before my sister’s graduation.  What has happened?  Well, my brother now has an apartment in Boston and this is where it all started.  Ironically, the first time that I ever went to his apartment I didn’t have any issues getting there or getting back home.  For having never been there before, I was pretty impressed with myself.  Of course, the second time that I dropped him off at his place, I got totally turned around and messed up.  not sure entirely what happened, but when I finally found some landmarks that I knew I managed to get myself home.

Now cut to today.  My great aunt (that is my grandmother’s sister on my mother’s side) took me out for dinner at a relatively new restaurant in the Legacy Place shopping center.  This is in Dedham which is essentially south of Boston and Newton (where my family lives).  Well, getting out there was simple, and really, if I had just gone back the way that I had come, the return trip would not have been such an adventure.  Instead, I figured that I would take a different route home that I probably should have been able to navigate, but seeing as I haven’t been down that way in years and it was dark, well it didn’t turn out so well.  I pretty much ended up in Boston as opposed to Newton and the trip probably took an extra 25 minutes.  At least my aunt and I had a good laugh about it.

Normally I can navigate pretty well, but I think that I have some kind of block with regards to the Boston area.  I can do Newton and west and I can do New Hampshire and Maine and Utah (which is a breeze).  I am generally pretty decent with new places and can often find my way once I have been someplace once.  I just can’t seem to figure out the major city right next to where I grew up.  So strange.

Always an adventure, that is for sure.

My summer that is.  Yesterday I officially said my goodbye’s at the theatre (just for the summer that is), packed up my junk and this morning I made my trek over to the east coast.  Pretty normal travel day all things considered, 6AM wake-up, have Sunreon pound on my door at 6:20, load up my junk into her car and head over to The Red Moose for a cup of coffee and a breakfast burrito.  I can’t remember if I ever mentioned this little coffee shop before, they haven’t been around that long (I believe since December) but they have great coffee and great food.  They are also practically right across the street from my house which could be a dangerous thing.

The traveling today was pretty painless.  I still think that it is a pain in the ass to get from the door of the airport to the door of the plane, but when you fly early enough in the day getting through security is pretty efficient.  In general, flying on Southwest is pretty efficient.  They seem to really be able to get you from one place to the next without much hoopla.  They also have pretty good fares.  I do love sitting in the terminal and on the plane during boarding listening to the agents and flight attendants try to explain to people about the open seating.  There are some people who really just don’t get it.  It isn’t that hard to understand is it?

As we loaded up the first plane (SLC to MDW) I ended up sitting next to a very interesting gentleman who works for the VA hospital right across the street from the theatre.  We shall call him D for the sake of privacy.  It turned out that he was also flying from SLC to MHT, though his reasons for the trip were not quite as upbeat as mine.  He was a very nice man and we had a great conversation for most of the flight.  In fact, by the time that we stopped chatting I only was able to make it about halfway through the new “Alice in Wonderland” movie.  In the end I suppose that isn’t terrible because now I can watch it on a screen larger than my iPhone.  I never did see it in theaters, and I was totally OK with that.

We arrived at MDW a couple minutes early which is a good thing because the layover was only 35 minutes.  I probably should and cold have grabbed some food, but since people were already lining up to board, I figured that I would hit the head and then get in line.  I ended up sitting with the D again and another interesting person who I believe was around my age.  This flight, which was only around 1:30-sin in length, the tree of us chatted the entire time.  I don’t think that I have ever had that much interaction with the people that I have been sitting with (who are not friends or family) on an airplane before.  In the end, D and I exchanged cards, and will probably connect again when I get back to Utah.  He has kids who he would love to see get involved in the arts, and he knows some people at one of the youth theatre organizations that he wanted to put me in touch with.

With an on-time arrival in Manchester I met my parents and I finally got to meet the new puppies.  They are sooo cute!  They are crazy hyper, like all huskies, but they are a lot of fun.  However they did manage to pinch my old Red Sox cap from my bag and chew it up.  It is a little sad, but I am sure that I will get over it (and get a new cap).  So, since it is Friday, I think that I will leave you with one of my father’s photos of the puppies.  The white one is Ava, and the black/silver one is Zoe.

Zoe and Ava on the back porch

I suppose that I should also mention that for the rest of the summer (until mid August) I will be on the east coast, primarily in Maine and New Hampshire working at Indian and Forest Acres camps.  My blogging may be a little more erratic over the summer, but I will keep you all up to date!

Once again I come to you with a post inspired by Mama Kat’s Writer’s Worksop.  This week, the prompt that struck me was number 5: “Describe a home cooked meal that makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside.”  I like to cook and even more than cooking, I love to eat.  Home cooked meals are definitely the best and I have to say, I don’t eat enough of them.  It would be much better for me in terms of my health and my wallet if I ate more home cooked meals.  I think that I really need to figure out how to make my schedule next year such that I can!

I come from a family that sat down every night to a family dinner all through my high school career, yet when I read this prompt, my mind immediately went to my grandmother’s house.  She is always ready with a meal no matter when you come over, planned or unannounced.  I suppose it is kinda the “Jewish Grandmother” thing to do, but it certainly was great.  I was lucky enough to grow up only minutes away from all of my grandparents, so we spent a lot of time with them and celebrated many holidays with them.

This post pertains to my maternal grandmother.  I have posted before on the subject of corned beef, mostly just giving my grandmother’s recipe and talking about making it.  This dish though, is one of my all time favorite.  I don’t remember what holiday I really associate corned beef with, I think it is Hanukkah.  In any event, it used to be an annual treat to head over to Nana’s house and know that we were going to be having corned beef for dinner.  usually served with mashed potatoes or Latkes.  Can’t go wrong when it is with latkes!

This home made corned beef is unlike any that you get at the deli counter in the supermarket.  I think it has a lot to do with the glaze that we make for it.  Ham glaze, mustard, brown sugar… It makes such a sweet glaze.  I think there is probably something also in the cooking the meat in ginger ale as well, but I am not a food scientist (might be a fun job).  All I know is that, when made right, this corned beef is so sweet and tender that it might even convert some vegetarians. (Well, that may be a little extreme)

I can’t think of any other food that really makes me feel as warm and fuzzy as my Nana’s home made corned beef.  It reminds me of my family and being together and it is quite yummy-in-the-tummy.  It isn’t terribly hard to make and it is lots of fun to eat!