They don't call it "Guardians of the HILL" for nothing, friends...

So, continuing with the theme of "let's pig-headedly ignore the chronically-inflamed-and-painful left knee and finish out the running season strong", I registered for an October 5K. (The thought process went something along the lines of "Eh, doctors keep insisting there's nothing physically wrong with the stupid joint, so what the heck? Might as well keep pounding on it until I, you know, actually break something that they can fix, right? I mean, doesn't that sound totally sensible and understandable?" Your job here is simply to nod and smile...thanks...)

Anyway, I was prepared to do this one solo, but at the last minute Riley decided he wanted to participate as well. It was a course we were very familiar with, at a nearby community sports complex that's quick and easy to get to, with abundant free parking--so the logistics were quite favorable. And as a bonus, Mother Nature blessed the occasion by providing a cool, cloudy day that felt conducive to a bout of vigorous outdoor exercise. 

Adding to the festivities, the race organizers--local law enforcement personnel--announced prior to the start that the volunteers offering their support along the course would be...UNC football players, on loan before their own home game against UVA later in the day. That certainly explained the gaggle of Carolina-blue-clad, LARGE young men gathered off to the side of the trail, all of whom smiled and waved in a friendly fashion at the crowd of people warming up and stretching.

As for the path itself...let's just say that we knew going into it that the one word best describing this particular venue is HILLY. I swear, I know it's not possible, but it feels like you're plodding up a steep slope BOTH ways...and unfortunately, no matter how many times we run this route, it never gets any easier for me. Now, don't get me wrong, I super-appreciated the sunny grins, enthusiastic high-fives, and encouraging words from those delightful Tarheel athletes--but I'm not gonna lie, it was an all-around rough 3.1 miles for me, y'all...as well as the slowest time I can ever remember recording. Siiiighhhhh...

Of course, none of this seemed to have any effect whatsoever on my speed-demon son, who looped the turn-around point and passed me on the way back in what seemed like a ridiculously short amount of time. He also appeared to be in second place headed back to the finish line...and still moving faster than I probably ever have in my life. But hey, no matter how challenging I, personally, found the endeavor, I still clocked in at a little over a half-hour...and could happily check "sweat session" off my To Do List for the day--that totally counts as a WIN in my book.

And speaking of victories, Riley did, in fact, finish #2 overall, earning himself a gift certificate to Fleet Feet, where he can pick up some cool workout swag. (In case you were wondering: new PR of 19:08, which averages out to 6:10 per mile. And no, I still haven't a clue where he gets it...) And you wanna hear something absolutely hilarious? No doubt due to the tremendously small field for this event...I also ended up placing in the top 3 for my age group, and received my own store credit to add to our shopping trip. (Whoo hoo! We are a Family of Champions, folks! Or at least some of us are...while others will gratefully yet sheepishly accept their prize, whether they feel they truly deserve it or not!)

Finally, after all the presentations, the emcee commented that catered food would shortly be arriving...and that the college kids would be hanging around a while longer if anyone wanted a photo with them. Well...HECK YEAH I do! Not that I knew who any of them were, to be perfectly honest...but the opportunity to get a picture with members of a hometown sports team was waaaaayyyy too good to resist. So I got Riley--who was far too embarrassed by the whole thing to jump into the fray--to capture a shot of me...surrounded and dwarfed by the charming football dudes. It was a satisfying conclusion to the experience, so we took our lovely parting gifts and headed home. Now I have a solid 3-1/2 weeks to baby (or bully--we'll see how it goes) the recalcitrant knee into behaving for one last 2018 trot...wish me luck!! 

Fall Fun with the Fam

If good old Will Shakespeare was right, and "all the world's a stage", then Mother Nature certainly picked up on her cue this past week, (Well, really, how could she miss it, loudly and fervently whispered from the wings, by all the Summer-weary players?) by presenting us with lovely seasonal weather on the heels of the receding tropical storm. This was just in time for the aptly named Fall Break that brought Derek back home to roost for a long weekend. (Get it? Because he's a...Gamecock? Ha! Nope, not sorry...)

And believe me, his family was more than ready to see him, after his 8-week absence. Husband took time off from work to drive down and pick him up on Wednesday, when his scheduled classes wrap up by noon. Then when Riley and I returned home from his soccer match that evening, we had a full Casa de WestEnders once more. (Yaaayyyyy!)

After bounding past Husband to claim my nice big Derek hug, I took a step back, waved my hands in the general direction of his head, and inquired, "What's happening here, with this...situation?" He smirked, peered over my shoulder at his father, and said, "What'd that take, like 1.5 seconds?" You see, it seems that my eldest child had been exercising his right NOT to shave since the last time I'd actually laid eyes on him, and had acquired a robust covering of...auburn....face fuzz.

And apparently the road trippers had discussed how long I would be able to refrain from commenting--and expressing my...lack of enthusiasm, let's say. He claims it's because the extra growth protects that portion of his skin from the sun...which of course is true...but I'm still chalking it up to college student laziness. Eh, it's his mug, he can do with it what he pleases, right? (Especially because he promised me he'd clean it up some before Christmas--I'll take it!)

Also speaking of exercising his newfound independence and grown-up (ish) status, later that night, as I was preparing for bed, he sought parental permission to go to a friend's house (around the corner) and watch the rest of the Red Sox/Astros game. I spared an incredulous glance at the clock, then stared confusedly back at him. "But, it's 11:06!" I sputtered. He laughed at my reaction and burst out with, "Mom! I'm in COLLEGE, you know!"

Then he shook his head ruefully, put his buddy on speaker, and enlisted his support to make his case, "Lou, tell my mother I'm allowed to come hang out with you!" Lou politely greeted me (as always), and played to my sympathies by describing the two of them as "feeling a little boy-deprived" and therefore needing some quality guy time. Oh, sure--how am I gonna argue with that? So, in what I'm certain is going to become a familiar pattern going forward, I agreed that he could go...but warned him not to wake any of the rest of us up when he came back. (He passed that test. Good job adulting, son...)

On Thursday 3/4 of us had to go about our routine of school/work, etc.--and Derek took advantage of the downtime to enjoy some R&R. But on Friday, he and I got to take a very special field trip...to Costco. Yep, the college kid needed to restock his snack stash, for all those post-workout/slept through a meal/late night studying hunger pangs. Besides, nothing says Mother/Son bonding quite like buying a cartload of food for him to take back to school, right? (Yeah, we'll go with that...)

Later in the afternoon, we all trooped over to the High School to watch Riley's soccer game (yes, another one). Derek basked in his "visiting alumni" status, and his younger brother appreciated having an especially strong cheering section there to witness his moves on the field. Then, for the first time since receiving his permit, Riley took the opportunity to show off his burgeoning behind-the-wheel skills to his sibling by chauffeuring all of us home (in a very circuitous fashion, in order to amass a half-hour of official Log Time). I'm not gonna lie--that was a bit...disconcerting, folks. Not at all because of Riley's performance, which was steady and solid...but the fact that both of my babies are getting FAR TOO OLD for my comfort. (Siiiighhhh...)

Where are we now? Oh yeah: Saturday was designated for "getting ALL the stuff DONE", which required the older teenager to set an alarm and drag himself out from under the covers at a reasonable hour. Before you castigate me as a mean parent for forcing him to do this during his mini-vacation, let me assure you that he had no one but himself to blame, as he had firmly announced that he wanted us to be finished by 11:45...so he could plant himself in front of the TV for many ensuing hours of college football viewing. (So yeah, don't spare any sniffles for the rabid NCAA gridiron fan, 'kay?)

First documented pumpkin patch experience

And lemme tell ya, the agenda was chock full of some super-fun errands, y'all. Like flu shots. (Yippee for...contagious disease prevention!) And haircuts. (Whoo hoo for personal grooming!) And finally, the actual entertaining part: the annual ritual of selecting pumpkins to adorn the front porch in the weeks leading up to Halloween. Now, we've been doing this since the boys were in preschool, when it involved a class outing to a local farm, to tromp around in the dirt and choose your preferred gourd right off the vine. But now that the guys are well past that stage, in recent years we've honed and streamlined the process...to the point that it involves only a quick stop at the supermarket with the largest and most varied array of the orange fruits on display.

This year's winner: Harris Teeter...where they also got their vaccinations...and which happens to be located right next to the Great Clips where they get shorn. Holy Hyper-Efficiency, Batman--that was almost too easy! Aaaannnd, everyone was installed on the sofa--with lunch in front of them--before the 12:00 kickoffs. BOOM!

That left Sunday, with just a few short hours for one last load of laundry and as much more in-person conversation as we could manage, before Husband and Derek packed up the car and headed back to the other Carolina. It was an altogether wonderful stretch of having the whole family together again--not only the precious time I got to share with Derek, but also watching the brother camaraderie in action as they reverted right back to their usual behavior--teasing each other, laughing a whole lot, and horsing around together (video games, football, basketball, you name it, they squeezed in a little bit of a lot of things) as though they'd never been separated. Riley has definitely not yet become accustomed to--or learned to appreciate--being a temporary only child, so I know he was extra-glad to get his favorite partner-in-crime back for a while.

First pumpkins on porch picture!

Oh, and something else that we didn't realize would change about the family dynamic: Derek and Husband are unmistakably the most outgoing and talkative members of Team WestEnders--they'll carry a discussion without anyone else having to do more than sit there, nod, and listen. However, without Derek around, Husband obviously has to shift his attention elsewhere...which means that he often tries to chatter at Riley or me...much to our chagrin. (Hello, a pair of introverts in da house! If you reeeaallly need something, you can find us in our rooms, chilling...)

Anyway, as they were leaving it occurred to me that we've already passed the longest period that Derek will spend away at school this semester. It's only a month until he's back for Thanksgiving, and then about 3 more weeks after that until his Winter hiatus. So we'll all just hang in there for a while longer as a split-squad, until we can be reunited for the next holiday. And maybe in the meantime we'll send Husband out into the neighborhood to get acquainted with a chatty neighbor or two--aha, a mission!

Messy Michael

It was only a month ago that Hurricane Florence barreled through our area, dumping buckets of rain, causing rampant flooding, and generally throwing folks into a tailspin for a couple of days. You may recall, though, that the trajectory changed at the last minute, which spared us the worst of her fury (and allowed us to sheepishly pack away our hastily gathered supplies, like the bottled water, extra flashlights, and piles of fresh batteries...all of which we had purchased in desperation, and under high amounts of stress, as everyone struggled at the same time to equip their homes with the essentials, ahead of the potential weather disaster).

Seeing and hearing about the destruction and devastation that Florence left near the coast, we were extremely grateful that we'd dodged this particular bullet. And then, long after we'd relaxed and gotten back to normal...along came Michael. (Seriously? AGAIN with the meteorological meltdown? Raise your hand if climate change sucks...) This time, the brunt of the damaging gales and downpours slammed into Florida, while we were merely expected to experience a bit of fallout after it had traveled over land and weakened for a while to a tropical rainstorm.

Eh, no biggie, right? I mean, we already had the emergency provisions! So this time there was no panicked raiding of stores, or sharing of catastrophic tales from Hurricanes Past...or much hoopla whatsoever, to be honest. We all shrugged, and went about our business, and figured it would be fine. Well, except that the schools, of course, took the opportunity to jump right onto the "cancel everything...just in case" bandwagon. So Riley's classes were suspended on Thursday as we waited for whatever was going to arrive.

And you know, it rained...sometimes in a positively drenching manner (such as when one needed to exit a building and reach one's car...hypothetically). There was some repeat overflowing of the usual creeks and standard puddling in the typical low-lying areas--all of which receded back to normal MUCH more rapidly this time than it did during the September mayhem. And it got a bit windy--for a short time, one might even call it downright blustery, as the trees rocked and loose branches rained down in our yard and thumped on our roof. Mildly disconcerting, sure...but nothing to trigger feelings of alarm.

Then...the power went out, with that decisive dying sound that strikes dread into the hearts of spoiled urban dwellers everywhere. I was in the kitchen when it happened, and I admit that I just stood there calmly waiting for it to come back on, because in the four years we've lived in Chapel Hill, we mostly get random, very brief flickers, rather than extended outages. Frankly, I can only remember maybe once that we've been in the dark for even a couple of hours, so this was an unusual occurrence.

But the lights did not, in fact, spring back to life in obedience to my unspoken command--even though the storm by this point seemed to have passed. Thus we did get to utilize our handy-dandy flashlights, as the evening progressed and we lost any natural illumination from outside. However, in the Silver Lining department: the water delivery was unaffected, which meant we could flush toilets and wash our hands. (Although with only cold agua, showering was on a strictly "if you dare" basis. The young, hearty Riley was the lone taker of THAT particular plunge--truly a braver soul than I. Besides, I stockpiled those biodegradable baby wipes for just such a...hygiene emergency!)

Aaannnd, no wi-fi, of course, so we each settled down with a book. In fact, I had enough time to read an entire novel, which was undeniably enjoyable...but once finished, what's next? The answer, in a Little House on the Prairie way, is "go to bed", because there's literally nothing else to do. Fortunately, unlike last month, when temperatures remained in the 80s and the humidity was utterly oppressive in Florence's wake, Michael left us with Fall-like conditions...and therefore not missing the AC that we couldn't use to stay comfortable anyway!

The next morning when we woke up, I'm sure everyone was hoping that the electricity fairies (um...we also refer to them as Duke Energy around here) had magically restored the power zipping through our lines. But one glance at the blank faces of the alarm clocks squashed that thought. At least it was bright and sunny, making it easy to get around the house during the day. But obviously school was closed again for Riley, due to the disruption...and we were running out of ways to entertain ourselves. (Yeah, we're clearly soooo not cut out for....let's call it "frontier life". Memo to Me: find some low-tech hobbies before next Summer...) Slightly more unsettling was the jarring realization that we found ourselves without cell service, either. Meaning that for the time being, we were well and truly cut off from any avenues of communication...short of a smoke signal, perhaps.

Now, Husband was able to make the short trek to his company's office in Durham, and thus have a productive day using their Internet and phones. Because I have an exceptionally low tolerance for boredom--and equally strong addiction to coffee--I ventured out into the nearest town, only about two miles away, to check on the status of the surrounding world. And I found myself flabbergasted (and indignant) that the shops there were fully operational--lights glowing, machines whirring, scanners buzzing, cash registers dinging (espresso makers humming...mmmm....). As a matter of fact, driving through both Carrboro and Chapel Hill revealed that the power seemed to be on...everywhere except our little corner of creation.

Naturally, this wasn't the whole story: once I was back within the range of free cyber-surfing, the Worldwide Web informed me that hundreds of thousands of customers throughout Florida and the Carolinas were in the same predicament. It just seemed so weird--both the specific locations of outages, and the fact that Michael seemed like so much LESS of a threat than that b...imbo...Florence.

Not to mention that--despite the deceptively less-than-powerful gusts, there were so many more electrical wires downed and trees toppled this time, leading to copious amounts of detouring on the roadways, and massive cleanup efforts as crews worked to dismember and remove the debris. However, while the blackout continued at Casa WestEnders, the salon where I'd booked a haircut appointment was open and receiving clients as usual. (Yay for getting your tresses shampooed....NOT under an icy cold stream!) Then Riley asked if we could head out to the library so he could use his computer to check a few things off his homework To Do list.

So we hit up a local favorite establishment for lunch (because why not? It's not like we could cook anything at home), then swung by Ye Olde House of Books. That is, us...and about a million other electricity-deprived citizens with the same idea. After navigating a parking lot so overrun that it resembled the chaos of a shopping mall at Christmas time, we wandered the first floor, in search of an unoccupied table--preferably next to a couple of power outlets to charge our devices. (Incidentally, while able to access news feeds, I read that the library had been hosting 300 visitors PER HOUR that day, which explains the uncharacteristic pandemonium...)

Later, as we were wrapping up our pursuits and considering (without much enthusiasm) making our way back to the house, Husband texted that he'd returned before us....and was happy to report that the lights, etc. were back up and functioning. Phew! It ended up being about 24 hours--and trust me when I say, that was more than enough. Once we were back in touch with both informational and social networks, I found out that we were actually super-lucky, because some of our friends who live just a short distance further away from town continued without power for another couple of days...which just boggles my mind.

So I think it goes without saying that we're feeling extra thankful today for things we normally take for granted, like warm water on demand, and refrigerated food, and electric bulbs to banish the darkness, and electronic means of amusing ourselves (still gotta work on that....) Besides which, our house is still standing, we're all safe and sound, the weather has taken a turn for the delightful...and the freaking Hurricane Season officially ends in a couple of weeks. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go make myself a cup of hot tea...in the microwave...just because I can!

Mountain Tales (some imagination required)

After the homespun hokiness portion of my mini-getaway was in the books, it was time for a little frolicking in the Great Outdoors--um...also known as "hiking". When traveling west to Mt. Airy as I'd done the previous day, it's impossible to miss Pilot Mountain as it appears in the distance from the highway. It's the distinctively tall-ish thing rising from the ground, with the somewhat bulbous-looking peak....kind of like a mushroom was placed on top of a big hill. Had I known what awaited me on my planned "walk in the woods day", I definitely would have pulled over and taken a photo. Ah...hindsight, that old bugaboo...

I mean, the conditions on Friday, when I wandered around town for hours, had been partly sunny and altogether pleasant. However, I woke on Saturday morning to overcast skies and the threat of drizzle. But it was my only opportunity to visit the park before heading home, so I decided to accept the possibility of getting wet ('cuz that's never happened before...yeah, Colorado, I'm talkin' to you...) and just go with it.

Then as I began to drive uphill on the steep, snake-y path leading to the uppermost parking lot, I had to laugh...when dense, drifting FOG enveloped the car and obscured most of the landscape, except for a few feet around the vehicle in all directions. Siiighhh. Now, hold on a minute...this situation seems eerily familiar...oh, right, I like to call it "The Rainier Effect" (or "The Curse of Rainier", if I'm feeling less generous). Admittedly, the swirling ground-cloud was quite captivating--at least in a spooky, potentially death-defying manner, that is. Anyhow, when I arrived at the summit of "Little Pinnacle", and peered hopefully off towards the horizon (I think) at one of the designated "scenic overlooks", my gaze met...you guessed it, a whole lotta thick, white nothin'.

I'm told you can see "the knob"--as Big Pinnacle is called by those in the know--on a weather-cooperative day, and lots more of the surrounding countryside, as well. Which I'm sure is all charming and lovely. But this was obviously NOT going to be one of those fortuitous days, so I picked a route and set off on foot to find some other...picturesque stuff...or whatever. And you know, all whining aside, it was still an immensely satisfying stroll, amongst the towering trees, skirting ponderous granite formations, with just enough effort required to make you feel like you'd earned your sweeping vistas.

And happily, as time passed, the pea soup did lift a bit, allowing more visibility from the various ledges where the trail led you to walk out and peer over into the valley below. At one point you could look out upon and admire not only a pastoral farm setting, with neatly arranged buildings and rows of late-season crops, but also the treetops that you'd risen above, on your trek. (I found this immensely rewarding...if also mildly vertigo-inducing...)

The other entertaining feature of the outing was getting to watch the groups of rock climbers going about their business with ropes, harnesses, helmets, and--from what I could observe--an impressive amount of skill. (Well, as a non-cliff-scaler myself, I can't actually judge how competent they were, to be honest...but no one slipped when I was nearby, so I'm gonna give them the benefit of the doubt...)

With my enjoyable 3-ish mile meander concluded, I figured I'd milked all I could out of the stubbornly grey day and the moody terrain. Although I'm absolutely certain none of the Male Posse would have any interest whatsoever in Mayberry, I could likely get them to agree to return with me to Pilot Mountain. So we'll just consider this a recon-excursion for now...and next time we venture out that way, we'll make sure the forecast promises things like "bright sunshine" and "clear skies" for our mission. Until we meet again, Yadkin Valley!

Fall Friday/Saturday Field Trip

With the Team WestEnders' Summer o' Running Around, I hadn't either the time or inclination to take a solo jaunt...but now that Fall has arrived (as indicated on the calendar, anyway, if not the thermometer readings) the itch to travel began to make itself known. So I poked around a little bit on the handy dandy Internet, and landed on Mt. Airy, NC...also billing itself as...Mayberry.

That's right, the boyhood home of Andy Griffith beckons you to come stroll its quaint streets, and revel in the nostalgia of various recreated sites from the iconic show. Let's see, a big helping of unabashed schmaltz, (hopefully) served up with a generous side of adorable quirkiness? Well, sign me right the heck up, folks.

So I  headed west, towards the mountains and my day of exploring. And let me tell you, the little 'burb did not disappoint. Conjure an image of "small town America" in your mind, and you'll have a good idea of Mt. Airy's charm. The central thoroughfare--actually called Main Street, of course--is lined with picturesque brick storefronts, housing all kinds of shops and eateries.

And yes, the friendly lady at the Visitor's Center will cheerfully give you detailed instructions on where to find such gems as Floyd's Barber Shop, Wally's Service Station, the Mayberry Courthouse, and the Snappy Lunch counter--which she earnestly advised me closed at 1:45, so I'd better hurry if I wanted to sample their apparently famed pork chop sandwich. (I think I threw her for a loop when I kindly replied that I'm a vegetarian, so I wouldn't need to worry about that particular establishment. I'm not sure she knew what to do with that, poor thing...)

I'm telling ya, it was just all kinds of super-cute, and I had a blast walking up and down the main drag, peering into antique stores, souvenir joints, and cafes. Speaking of which, although there honestly didn't seem to be much for a gluten-free veg-eater, my stomach nevertheless informed me that it was time to sit down and grab some grub. As luck would have it, the fickle storm gods decided that it was also the right moment to grace us with a quick downpour, so I ducked into Walker's Soda Fountain (serving Mt. Airy since 1925!) for some forgettable fries...and a much-more-important Diet Pepsi break.

Then when I'd had my fill of yesteryear, I set the GPS for the house in which I'd rented a room for the night on AirBnB. It turned out to be a sweet little cottage-y place, tucked away on a tiny cul-de-sac just outside the city limits. What I didn't know, however, was that the host had also booked the second bedroom...to another couple with whom I'd be sharing the space. Oh, and she neglected to tell any of us ahead of time. So we just...bumped into each other, and introduced ourselves, and made the best of it. Um...can you say A-W-K-W-A-R-D?! (Fortunately, they're very nice, if a bit...chatty for my comfort. Also, they evidently prefer the AC set to 70, meaning that I'm currently unable to feel my fingers. So I'm just gonna hide in my room...huddled under the comforter. Siiiighhh...)

After a brief lie-down to recharge my batteries, I decided to make use of the last few hours before sunset, and figure out how to navigate to the Blue Ridge Parkway. It took a couple of tries before I was able to get Google Maps on board with the route I wanted--but it only ended up being about another 22 miles west, to jump on near the Cumberland Knob recreation area. The landscape on the way was a treat in-and-of itself, with the tree-encrusted mountains looming ever larger and more imposing, and the road winding upwards through tranquil, shady forests. But the scenic pull-offs, where you could gaze out over verdant valleys nestled up against the feet of the impassive yet somehow protective peaks? Those, my friends, were worth the price of admission, as they say. (Which was, you know...free. But you know what I'm saying, yeah?)


And with that, the sun sank lower in the evening sky, and my daylight touring window drifted shut. I journeyed back to Mt. Airy for some dinner (obtained from a supermarket, which seemed the likeliest option for success in the area, given the menus I'd glanced at earlier in the day) and a restful night of sleep, so I'll be energized for tomorrow's conclusion of the adventure. So from Andy, Opie, Barney, Aunt Bea, et. al., good night from Mayberry!