About 7 months ago, I visited a place which dates back to the roots of my ancestry. While on a train which left from London going to Brighton, England, I would be fully contented with the view of the English countryside, a panini that Madi didn't want from a quaint little cafe, and amused by two twenty-something women behind us who engaged in endless small talk.
Since Brigton is a coastal city, we would have the chance to visit the beachfront along the English Channel. We enjoyed the walk as the city streets led the way. The streets of Brigton painted a portrait of quaint, winding neighborhood drives,
charming shopping venues and happy crowds. The sun shone and everyone just seemed to be in good spirits to include us.
The UK is home to a multilevel bookstore chain known as Waterstones. I remembered visiting from my last trip with Rebecca. Madi and I each had something specific we were in need of. All Madi needed was a book a friend recommended to keep her occupied on the flight home. The book I wanted was a special book that I wanted to get for Madi's younger 8-year-old sister Emma as a souvenir and early
Christmas present.
This past Christmas, I took time out from shopping and holiday functions to enjoy
a little Christmas present which was brought to me by some online Anglophile
friends of mine via Youtube. It was a video based on Emma's book which is a very
charming animated tale of a boy and a snowman titled, none other than, "The Snowman"
by Raymond Briggs- It's kind of like Britains version of "Frosty" without
the song, the magic hat (though he wore a hat in the story, but his life did not
depend on it) and, most distinctively, no dialogue. The story was told through
illustration and music creating a brilliant concept which has become a customary
tradition in this culture for many years. I first watched it alone and then shared
it with Emma since it was still age appropriate for her and she was really the only
one out of the five who expressed interest.
It may have been off season at the time but I knew the bookstore would probably
have the actual book the story was based on which they did. Emma valued the book
and kept it hidden on the mantle of the fireplace until her 3-year-old sister
somehow got a hold of it and took a couple of markers to the back cover.
Fortunately, I was able to wipe off her artwork with a wet cloth and I now keep it
on my special shelf in the master bedroom along with my Dr. Suess limited addition
favorites collection, my classic Sesame Street series circa 1969, and any other
items the kids may want but not allowed to be touched.
I cannot always say that I am full of holiday cheer at Christmas time. It's just not
really the same when you are a grown up. After singing in choirs my whole life
followed by directing them in my adult years, those same carols year after year
which once put me in the spirit seem to have lost their newness.
Truthfully, when someone asks me what I want for Christmas, I don't really have an
answer. Not that I don't appreciate a warm, fuzzy pair of slippers or a QT gift
card (one of my favorites last year from a student and I am secretly hoping for the
slippers this year). It's nice when someone takes the time to think of me that way,
I am just one of these people who finds contentment in other ways.
In this case, I don't mind if I get the same as what I got last year.
Place: Brighton Sussex, United Kingdom
Date: May 24th, 2014
*The candle in the photo was handmade with actual pebbles I collected from Brighton Beach.
Now taking a family vacation across the country with a car full of kids is far from glamorous and may not be compared to that of a romantic get away to Aruba. There's planning, preparation and the endless packing list. And let's not leave out the 5:30 am wake up call, morning rush hour traffic and two carsick kids which left me with a lifelong aversion to doughnut holes. However, we always look forward to the drive, the thanksgiving feast, football games and easy going family members we stay with who don't mind that we trash their house. It has been a long lived tradition that we have enjoyed for years and has always been very consistent.....with the exception of this trip.
The car trip itself was the same however we remembered the Dramamine this time and seeing two coyotes in the hopes of seeing the roadrunner off in the distance. But the adventure of the visit would be different this time. Way different. In recent years I have developed more of a sense of adventure. I've traded in my "No thank you's" to taking the risk whatever that might be.
We had finally arrived. I have 3 favorite places on this earth: The UK, on stage at my church, and 1350
Pounder Street......where I would experience uncharted territory 3 different times.
The Brewery
After many visits to the home of my brother-in-law, Matt and the kids cousins, I wondered what the possibilities there would be for adventure. Well, I have learned that adventure is something that has to be sought out at times.
Once we arrived there was the usual unloading of the car, chat-up time and an initial grocery store run. Then my husband Mike often disappears with his brother for some catching up of their own. Matt usually has a new TV, football jersey, or any other of the newest man-cave addition he wants Mike to see. However when they disappeared this time, I followed them.
I noticed the open basement door and basement light on. I had heard something about a home brewery that Matt had started in his basement but just had to see it for myself.
Visiting the in-home brewery was like reliving those days back when I was a school kid. I didn't realize how much I missed the field trips. Nor did I realize how lengthy the beer making process actually is. We set aside a day during our stay to find out just that. I was about to witness a chemistry experience in the making.
With 40 pounds of grain soaking in hot water, we would begin the process of giving birth to a new batch of beer that next day. The soaking process turns the grain into an oatmeal substance called mash.
Next, the mash becomes a substance known as wort once the hops is added as it is transferred and boiled in a large kettle......leaving a pleasant aroma throughout the house.
large kettle for boiling
Hops
The final steps are the fermenting process where the wort is then poured into ail pails to set for about 4 weeks. The liquid is then separated from the sediment into carboy containers where it will set another week before it is flavored, carbonated and bottled.
Carboys for Fermentation.
It was all a little confusing at first but it eventually started make sense. Though not really a beer person, I learned a lot that day. Though I don't fancy beer often, the brew master has his own unique twist. He has his own variety of flavors. He has his own hand-crafted recipes for varieties such as coffee, chili, persimmon, pumpkin and my favorite, chocolate pomegranate. Kind of like Koolaid but only more sophisticated.
The Didgeridoo
Musical instruments are my passion. When I was in band as a school kids, I played french horn but always wanted to play everyone else's instrument and eventually became a band director at one point. With a brother-in-law obsessed with Australia I would have an introduction to a long, horn shaped wood carved monotone instrument of Aborigine- the Didgeridoo. I had seen them before along with a demonstration but was unfamiliar with the name.
As a family, we often have fun together, often say and do as we please making ourselves at home. We can also be very silly at times. As we were watching TV Matt decided it was time to work on his playing skills. My attention was immediately drawn just as it would have been when I was a band kid. I had immediately decided it was my turn. I took the lowest diaphragm breath of air I could and blew! Though it may take a lot of talent to produce a monotone, the true authentic way to play the instrument correctly, the seemingly impossible task of circular breathing must be executed. This is where air is continuous without interruption while breathing in through the nose and pushing air from the cheeks where the player becomes like a human bagpipe. Maybe someday.
The Unthinkable
After two fun adventures light hearted in nature, things took a different turn the next day..... a bit of a darker turn. The week of thanksgiving is often a time of some much needed down time where there are days when we have absolutely but intentionally nothing planned. I got out of bed that morning thinking that day would be one of them.
I was in my bedroom when Matt walked in and pulled out a suspicious looking black case with a digital combination lock from under the bed. He opened it, took inventory then looked at me with a sinister grin. There was brief conversation at dinner the night before but mostly between him and Mike. I didn't think much about it really. Mike joined him as they were about to inform me that they were going to the store as well as another little "errand." I asked if there were ever any girls that go to this "place." They said yes and that they would swing by later after they went to the store to give me time to shower before going to the range.
I would do something I had never done. I would be firing a gun.
A million things swirled through my head during that shower. I prayed, I worried, I thought about how this days could change forever if something went wrong. The Didgeridoo was one thing but at least from having played the trombone before, I had some idea as to what I was doing. This was not a musical instrument. It was a 9 millimeter. A gun. A weapon. Recoil? What if? I had no clue what I was doing. But somehow, I knew it was something I had to do.
It was cold outside and the three of us were very quiet during the walk to the car. As the car started and we left the drive way, Matt had expressed his relief that he was not the only one doing this for the first time...
WHAT?!
That was a bit of a game changer for me. When I had watched him as he had made preparations that morning, I was confident he had had at least some experience. It turns he was as nervous as I was.
As we got closer to the range, the situation reminded me the time when I needed to get my wisdom teeth extracted at age 19. Though it is a common operation, my situation was a bit more complicated and involved a more extensive procedure. I remember wanting to back out at do it another time, but I didn't. We had to drive out of town to have it done and there was no sense putting it off any longer.
We arrived at the Ultimate Defense and Training Center and it started to snow. The sound of gun shots could be heard from outside. As expected, it was crowded since it was the day before a holiday. I was instantly relieved when I saw that there were other women there. Everyone seemed so calmed and collected as they knew what they were doing. Shooters fired their guns with ease in their lanes as if nothing could go wrong.
Paperwork had to be completed which included a questionnaire and we were all amused by the question which asked "Have you ever operated a firearm?" and all three of us answered "no." With no further issues, we obtained our eye and ear protection and were granted access to the firing range.
The firing range was in a soundproofed area which adjoined to the entrance where retail was sold. As we entered, I realized the sign which read "Must have eye and ear protection before entering." was there for a reason.
Even with the ear protection, I was overwhelmed by the noise. Bullet shells were flying from the guns hitting the shooters in the face at times. I wondered how they could be so unfazed...additionally, how will I be when it's my turn.
Matt went first. I watched him as he craftily selected the bullets and prepared the gun. Though he was fully focused looking proficient, I was surprised when I saw his hands shake during the first few shots. Mike went next and we each fired about 11 shots for each round.
I helplessly waited wondering if I would actually go through with this though I already knew the answer. It helped that there was a young teen aged girl with her dad who seemed very calm. After watching her fire her gun, I would once again have a little more reassurance.
It was my turn. I prayed in tongues.
In my hand, I held a weapon which, though small, I knew had the power to kill. It was intense. I waited as the target sheet ran to the back of the range. Matt showed me the safety lock and shifted the switch.
It was time.
I held the gun with my arms straight and elbows locked as I was instructed to do so. I pulled the trigger. My gunshots were now among the other that could be heard throughout the range. I fired all eleven shots with long intervals in between as I felt the need to concentrate. Though I took my time, I wanted to get it over with. Then, the gun was empty.
I only fired one round on the 9 millimeter but Matt also had a .22 rifle which I was a little more comfortable about firing. I had remembered an episode of Little House on the Prairie when Carolyn Ingalls fired a rifle and did it with such ease. I remembered how sexy that was! I knew I could pull it off if she could.
The gun was larger which made me feel like I had more control. The guys each fired one round before it was once again my turn. Feeling more confident, I was instructed to hold the rifle against my shoulder so that it would not retract. Just like playing a musical instrument, I also needed to know where to put my hands.
The first round was a breeze. Matt went to reload and called me back for a second and third round.
I went to the range that snowy day filled with anxiety but left just feeling like a bad girl (for lack of a better word).
We, the next day, joined the millions of Americans who feasted while celebrating the Thanksgiving holiday. While some of them would fight over mashed potato gravy, make plans for black friday, and argue over who to seat at the grown-up table, we drank home-brewed beer and celebrated milestones with a digeridoo in the corner of the room. And with that I must now dedicate this song to the one and only- my target.
Date: Nov 25th-29th, 2014
Place visited: St. Louis, MO
Adventures: Home Brewery Tour
Hands-on Cultural Musical Dabble
Shooting in a Firing Range
Traveling involves both the desire to get lost and be willing to take risk......and why not throw in a little spontaneity. Today, I put all three into
action.
It's fall, the leaves are turning and I had an opportunity to cease. It all started the other day when Madi had informed me that she wanted to have a sleepover with her best friend who recently relocated 40 miles away to
Dawsonville, Ga.
It was a Saturday. It was a cool, brisk day with gusty winds. There were several
breaks in the cloud cover and the sun shone through as the bright blue sky was
visible complementing the colors of the changing leaves. As Madi and I rode, we
talked some but there were quiet times when I began to think. I had a plan. I told
no one.
There is a reason why I write, a reason I take candlelight baths, a reason why
I close my door to listen to Led Zeppelin, and reason I travel. My life.
Though very content, sometimes I just have to get away from the dishes, the sticky
floors, the toys, the work schedule, and the "mom can I have's."
I carried out my plan after I dropped Madi off at her friends house by getting
back into my red minivan and kept going forward in the same direction. With a
dying cell phone that needs an upgrade as it only now holds a charge for about 6
hours, less than a half a tank of gas and only about two hours before I had to get
back home, I kept going.
I followed the winding road past old farm houses, deep valleys and an old filling
station. I wasn't even sure I would end up where I had planned to go but, still, I
was without a care.
The drive was about 15 minutes before I reached the top of the mountain where a
magnificent view of North Georgia could be seen. I drove through the small town
square which was crowded with visitors browsing through the many boutique shops,
candy stores and craft bizarres. Though it seemed charming enough, it was
something I really was not in the mood for. I was looking for something a bit
slower paced and more serene and I was hungry.
A small mom and pop diner looked inviting as I drove further down the highway. It
sat upon a lovely view of the mountainside covered with the many colorful trees
and a distant view of far off hills as they stood and met the sky.
I assumed that a high altitude would bring about cooler temperatures. Having been
spontaneous, I was not prepared once I got out of the car. It was as if I thought
it would snow!
The diner was warm and cozy and the Georgia Florida game was on. It was after 3:00
PM and there was no crowd. I took a window seat and ordered a chicken sandwich.
There was a bit of a wait before it was brought to me. My phone was nearly dead
and I had to save the last of what charge I had in case on an emergency. I had
nothing to do but enjoy the silence. When my oversized sandwich arrived, my only
concern was that I didn't have a mouth big enough to accomodate it. It was all good!
On my way home, I had about enough of a charge to send a text message informing
everyone I would be home soon. Though I knew I was going to be interrogated once I
got home and spent much of the drive home preparing for how I was going to
carefully tiptoe around the fact that I needed to rebel a little, coming home was
not so bad.
I didn't go far, I didn't stay long and I spent very little money, but I took a
risk. I thought I would use the title Autumn, Altitude, and a Chicken Sandwich for
this but since I had listened to Led Zeppelin the night before, I chose
differently.
Location: Dahlonega, GA
Diner: Danny's Restaurant
Date: 11/01/2014
Ok, ok. I know its a sin to lust after something, but, hey, we all have our
weaknesses right? Ultimately, it would have been a huge waste of time for God to
create all these exciting places to see and go to for us on this earth if we were
to just stay in the same place all throughout our lives.
I don't really know if it is a misfortune that I got bit by this bug or perhaps
the ultimate reward. Yes, I love to travel. A lot!
I guess the fact that I am also a risk taker somehow relates to this. I do crazy
things like starting Mary Kay cosmetic businesses (which actually went quite
well), have a large family, and I feel very comfortable on a stage in front of an
audience. There was even a time when I let a student of mine bring his pet
chihuahua into music class for a dog trick act at a time when I was teaching in a
consevative Catholic school administered by a nun with a ruler in her desk. Yes, I
have been know to be courageous a time or two.
The Wander bug thing started about two years ago when I planned a self guided trip
to England which I carried out not once but on two different occasions. There will
be a third in the future as I also plan to expand outside England's borders while
visiting Copenhagen and attending a exclusive piano concert. (Yikes! Did I really
just say all of that?)
Needless to say, whenever I travel anywhere whether abroad or even my own backyard with or with out my ruby slippers, I am somehow moved by the experience. There is always something that impacts me no matter where I go. I am typically very observant anyway and I can create a story out of just about anything.
I have decided to combine two things that I am very passionate about: Writing and
travel. In doing so, perhaps there will be more of both in my life.
