In 1986, when I was nine, my mom took me and my brother to see the movie The Three Amigos. I think you had to be between the ages of 7 and 9 to appreciate this gem of a film to the extent that my brother and I did / do. Almost everyone else thought it was so-so. But all of you 44-to-46-year-olds out there know what I’m talking about. “In-famous?” “I think it’s a male plane.” “You killed the invisible swordsman!” “Would you say I have a plethora of pinatas?” And my personal favorite line: “It’s a sweater!” If you try hard enough, you can make any piece of literature relevant to your current situation. There are zero connections between parenting and The Three Amigos, but for some reason, I keep thinking about this ridiculous film lately, and how it pertains to my life as the parent of a 50-pounder. Read on if you somehow have any remaining interest. (I’m lookin’ at you, Uncle Josh!)
Read MoreI started a post about becoming a semi-serious runner again after having a child. Inane, I know, but wait. I was about halfway through writing when my mind began to go in a different, much more interesting direction: Who is “The Wee Wanderer,” anyway? And then I wrote the following enormous aside. . .
Read MoreWhen we got married in August 2011, Travis and I eternally marked our calendars for the annual Big Camping Trip / Wedding Anniversary Celebration. On that inaugural summer nine years ago, I had been too busy planning the wedding to think about anything else. (Boutonnieres, you guys? Really?) So, for our actual honeymoon, we never got beyond selecting the general vicinity of our destination: “Canada.” … But over the years, the Big Camping Trip has become a much more orchestrated event. In fact, planning it has become something I look forward to almost as much as the trip itself. . .
Read MorePicture this: A family of three has pulled over at a lakeside picnic area for lunch. It is Day 1 of a multi-day camping trip. The child has forgotten all about food and runs -- fully clothed -- into the water up to his knees, laughing and splashing and shouting. The father’s right beside him, exhibiting similar behavior. Where is the mother, you ask? She’s standing by the car, of course, with a look on her face that any other mother would recognize: I don’t think I packed enough pants.
Read MoreRecently, a friend told me that she had had an altercation with a gardening-store attendant who was angry that, due to the COVID quarantine, gardening had become unusually popular. Rookie gardeners were buying up all the seeds and supplies, and loyal customers were being turned away. “Everyone’s gardening!” the irritated attendant complained. Well, that’s the way I feel about camping. You guys, everybody’s camping!
Read MoreThere is nothing quite as pathetic as a Pacific Northwesterner at the tail end of Labor Day Weekend.
Read MoreIt’s deep winter, and you’re over it. You’ve taken all the advice: gone cross-country skiing, taken family yoga and music classes, visited multiple children’s museums. But you want something new. An adventure. The wind in your hair and the sand in your shoes. It is time, restless reader, for you to head to the sea. . .and go clamming. Yep, that’s right – clamming.
Read More