Middle-aged (body) breakdowns....

So for today's tale, how 'bout we visit the category of "Wow, getting older really sucks"? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm generally pretty healthy and super-grateful for that. (Also pausing to superstitiously knock on wood, because after all, we'll take all the luck we can get, right? Okay, I'm back). However, I feel like--just in the last several years, really--I've reached sort of a...precarious age...when there's always seems to be some body part acting obnoxious and causing me grief.

For example, I just finally bullied my left knee into submission (with lots of trial and error, until at long last one of the string of orthopedists I consulted happened to hit upon the unique set of exercises that magically calmed my intransigent joint). But then, after only a few short, blessed pain-free weeks...my heel started complaining after I finished a run. (Yes, just one, again. Apparently I'm, I don't know, "uneven" or something...)

But seriously, a HEEL? Why does that even happen? Perhaps I should insert, here, that ever since I began jogging at age 15, I've been a forefront-strike kinda girl. As in, the balls of my feet are the only part that actually touches the ground. So obviously this was not only a new and unpleasant development, but also pretty baffling, given the fact that I've been using the same stride without consequences for such a long time. Initially, it honestly wasn't that bad, though--just a bit of achiness that would hobble me for the rest of the evening, but dissipate by the next morning. Therefore I followed my standard operating procedure when faced with a suspected injury: I completely ignored it.

That is, until bootcamp two Sundays ago, which was our interval-type run with exercise stops. I got through it with only a modicum of discomfort...but when we were done, I could barely walk. The situation had abruptly escalated to "bad enough to visit a professional as soon as humanly possible". As it turned out, this would conveniently be the very next morning, at a local orthopedic clinic that allows walk-in patients (or, you know, "limp-in", as it were...).

It took the doctor approximately 30 seconds to hand down a diagnosis of "plantar fasciitis"...a malady I've certainly heard of, and know multiple people who've experienced. Evidently I didn't have a very clear understanding of what caused it or how it presented, though, because that was not at all what I would have guessed was currently plaguing my foot. He prescribed a few specific stretches that target the area, and assured me that if I followed his advice to do them "every hour if you can" I should see improvement in a couple of days, and a return to "normal" (whatever that means at this point) in a matter of weeks.

Huh. Setting aside the frequency recommendation (which we can all agree is ridiculous and unrealistic, yeah?), that sounded like a plan I could put in motion. So I settled into what I felt was a reasonable pattern of completing the 4-minute program twice each in the morning, afternoon, and evening, for six times (totaling 24 minutes) per day. Heck, I even threw in some Ibuprofen and the occasional interlude with an ice pack, just for extra measure. (Why not cover ALL the bases, I always say...)

But imagine my surprise when a golden nugget of wisdom--perhaps even the BEST one--came from an unexpected source...my chiropractor. He always asks if there are any new areas of concern to report, so I enlightened him about my heel issue. Without missing a beat, he held up a finger and said, "Let me show you something that might help!" Hence my introduction to the wonder of RockTape--you know what I'm talking about, the adhesive strips you see pro athletes wearing on their shoulders, or knees, or calves. I always wondered why they did that, and now, thanks to my holistic practitioner-dude, I can tell you that it has something to do with supporting the muscles...reducing fatigue...and preventing or alleviating that old bugger, inflammation.

Well, it certainly seemed worth a try, so I let him apply the stuff (and take pictures, so I'd be able to recreate the trick at home). And...whether it's a placebo effect, the power of positive thinking, or an actual physiological phenomenon...I'd swear it's making a difference. And you know what? It can't hurt me, so my philosophy on these kinds of treatments can best be summed up as "Eh, why not?"

Then, after being rational and patient (I know, right? ME? Strange times, my friends...) and refraining from running for about 10 days to give the healing time to progress, I woke up one morning...feeling pretty much back-to-normal. So, all day I strolled around (still performing the stretches every few hours), wondering if it would be foolish to attempt the evening group-run I sometimes attend. But as the workout hour approached, I made the executive decision...to go for it.

"What's the worst that could happen?" I speculated. "I have to slow down to a walk? The route is familiar, so I won't get lost, I'd just be...the last one back. No biggie!" So yeah, I talked myself into it. And lemme tell ya...it went fine. (Despite the 90-degree lingering heat, which was a whole other challenge...) Sure, I utilized ALL of the tools an old...er runner has at her disposal: the super-special tape...the glamorous compression socks...the pharmaceuticals and cold wraps. Yet, despite some manageable soreness, the foot appears to have made it through its return to pounding the pavement relatively unscathed.

Of course, I have no way to predict how long this particular ailment will stick around, but at least I have an arsenal of information and remedies with which to attack it. And a whole week to rest and recuperate again before I absolutely have to lace up my running sneakers...for a 5K that Riley and I are already signed up to do. Please keep your fingers (and toes?) crossed that the grab-bag of quick-fixes at my disposal continues to do the trick, thankyouverymuch!

Automobile Anecdotes...

When I was growing up, my family had a couple of go-to vacations that we tended to repeat. Beach trips to Ocean City, Maryland (which surely contributed to my deep-seated love for sea, sand, and sun). Visits to my mom's relatives in middle-of-nowhere Kentucky (and if you don't think THAT was a fabulous 16-hour car ride...you're absolutely right...). And we were sooo fortunate to have an excuse to trek to "the most magical place on Earth"-- aka "Mickey Land"...um "Disneyworld"--due to the proximity (ish) of a great aunt and uncle who conveniently retired to Florida and provided a stopping-off point a couple of hours away from the park. All of which made for many fond memories of childhood fun.

But when I became an adult, it slowly began to dawn on me that perhaps I'd inherited some kind of, I don't know, recessive....wanderlust gene. So I started traveling when I could--returning to Vero Beach for highly entertaining interludes with the great aunt, treating myself to a European fortnight as a reward for prevailing through my grueling graduate program, and finally driving to all corners of the country (and occasionally over the border to Canada, for some...international variety) when I had a real job (with Summers off--yay, 10-month public school calendar).

Luckily, Boyfriend-Who-Became-Husband seemed to share the same explorer's trait, and therefore was on board with the whole "mega road trip" notion from the beginning. So the two of us meandered out to Colorado to visit friends (transplanted from his childhood home of Pittsburgh--go figure). And for our honeymoon, we motored around Ireland (figuring out how to navigate the "wrong side" of the narrow, winding roads...while also dodging sheep...and ginormous tour buses. Dear Heaven Above, I'm still amazed we survived...). Then there was the first, fateful excursion to San Francisco (also bunking with former 'burghers. What is it with these wild bands of...roving Steel City denizens? Or what have you...).

As for the yearly getaways enjoyed by Team WestEnders, they've been well chronicled right here, since our inaugural vacay in 2009, when we elected to kick off the whole shebang with...Uncle Walt's Playground. (Okay, okay, "Disneyworld". Sheesh!) So, you might be wondering through this rambling epistle...why all the sudden nostalgia? Well, because this year, Husband chose an anniversary card that talks about our "life's journey"--which normally would cause me to perhaps roll my eyes and gag just a little since we're generally NOT about the schmaltzy Hallmark moments in this house. But he saved it from drowning in an excess of syrupy sentiment (and himself from getting a merciless mocking from the dinner table squad) by writing in just a couple of the notable destinations...or in some cases, more like "pit stops"...along our path....all of which had been awarded a place among our collected WestEnders Lore immediately following the experiences.

Without further ado, here are their stories:
Johnsonville, PA: this one is actually JohnsonBURG, but it's totally understandable that he muffed the name because A) the commercials all over TV for the damn sausage manufacturer and B) it was a completely unmemorable one-gas-station "town", all alone in the central-Pennsylvanian wilderness. In short, the four of us were on the way to Cooperstown, NY, navigating small state highways...and ready for lunch. As we traversed mile after mile of nothingness, with 11 and 8-year old boys becoming increasingly ravenous and disgruntled, we suddenly came upon...well, a dot that actually showed up on the map, at least. (That's right, a paper version. 'Cuz lemme tell ya, we had ZERO bars of cell service out there, my friend...) Hooray, we were saved! Um...yeeeahhh...not so much: we ended up getting sandwiches....from the Subway counter located inside the aforementioned lone fuel outpost. Lesson learned? When tackling the Keystone State, plan ahead, and pack lots more snacks! (No photo evidence...obvs...)

Prairie Dog Town, KS: Have you ever driven across the middle of the U.S. on Interstate 70? If so, you know where I'm going with this--and if not...I wouldn't recommend it, folks. Let's just say...there's a LOT of...corn. Some wheat. A couple of sunflowers. But it's the "Great Plains", right? Suuuure...and by that, they must mean "super-flat"...plus "mind-numbingly boring". But if you're silly (or maybe it was "frugal"? Sure, we'll go with that...) enough to be covering the distance between the East Coast and Colorado by automobile, rather than airplane, you kind of don't have a choice. Which is why, after who knows how many hours of tedium, Husband couldn't resist pulling over to check out a...roadside attraction...he saw advertised on one of the few billboards we'd passed.

I recall being less-than-enthused--I might have said (shouted) something along the lines of "Prairie dogs, who cares? They're the Midwestern equivalent of SQUIRRELS, for crying out loud!" But he was not to be deterred. Even when the "special exhibits" included creatures such as a 5-legged calf...clearly the result of a horrible birth defect, and therefore both heartbreaking and revolting. For yeeearrrrs, every time he made a questionable suggestion for an activity or location we should try, I only had to invoke three words to shut it down immediately: Prairie. Dog. Town.

Newton, IA: Honestly, another one from that SAME TRIP that plunged Husband into hot water, so he must figure that the statute of limitations has passed by now. You see, on the way back towards civilization--I mean "Maryland"--we planned to stop in Chicago for some baseball (naturally). But first we had to cover a whole bunch of miles; thus we set out for a long day on the road, with the goal being to get as far as we could before stopping for the night. After many hours of chugging along, we found ourselves becoming weary, and began looking for signs indicating a suitable hotel. Lo and behold, at that moment we realized we'd almost made it to Des Moines, which as the capital, would surely meet our modest hospitality needs. As we approached the off-ramp, however, Husband spoke the calamitous words that have haunted us to this day, "Des Moines is a major city, so I'm sure there's more than one exit. Why don't we try to get to the far side before we stop...so we can avoid traffic in the morning."

Holy "are you freakin' kidding me, Batman"? Even at the time, I'm positive that I must have turned and gaped at him in disbelief as I sputtered something along the lines of, "I mean, have you even been paying attention? Have you noticed many bustling metropolis...es (metropoli? whatever...) in this part of the country? And what in the name of all things holy do you think you're going to run into tomorrow...farmers moving their cattle across the street to another field?  I know it's been an endless slog today, but in case you've somehow forgotten, We're. In. I-O-W-A, dude!" In short, I was not...best pleased...by his decision--especially when it turned out to be (you guessed it) the ONLY opportunity...to take advantage of all the special things Des Moines might have to offer.

As we whizzed past the marker, leaving behind the welcoming lights of town, we faced nothing ahead of us but blank space as far as the eye could see. So we kept going...and going...as it grew later...and then earlier...until finally we stumbled upon good old Newton. Even then, it seemed like other people had fallen into the same trap, because we stopped several times to inquire about "room at the inn", only to encounter people already lined up at the front desk ahead of us, and no vacancies to be had. Finally--if I remember correctly it was attempt #3--Husband determinedly departed the vehicle and vowed that he wouldn't return without a key, come hell or high water. I waved him off without much hope at this point, as it was oh, approximately 3 a.m.

A few minutes later, after reportedly waiting in yet another queue (seriously, the inexplicable crowds of...tourists?...in the dead of night...in Iowa...remain an unsolvable mystery to this very day) he marched back triumphantly, waving the promised golden ticket to unlock a much-needed bed. He also mentioned that the clerk had tried to extort an outrageous amount of money from him, (which was probably like 100 bucks--this was the '90s, after all...in--I just can't stress this enough--Newton, Iowa) until he'd retorted, "We're on a tight schedule--we're just going to take a NAP!" and suddenly got a discount for his mild outrage. But the final, unforgettable piece of this ridiculous tale came when we entered our chamber, intent upon maximizing our precious window of snooze time...and instantly noticed the mirrored ceiling over the bed. Yep...nothing but the classiest digs for us, y'all...

Winchester, VA: This was one of the few field trips with the boys that didn't quite work out as expected. I wanted to take an overnight foray to somewhere fairly close that we hadn't been before, and my research made Winchester seem like it had both a quaint town to stroll around in, and some history, in the form of a battlefield we could wander. As it happened, the date of our chosen expedition was frigid--as in, biting wind and sub-zero temps, making it thoroughly miserable to be outside. Plus, the alleged Civil War site consisted of: a large, empty plot of land. No helpful historical plaques. No cannons. Nada. On top of that, Riley had a bit of a cough, which hadn't seemed worrisome at the outset, but which appeared to worsen throughout our explorations during the day. (Side note: he'd actually be diagnosed with bronchitis when we got home. Soooo much Mom Guilt over that, for a long time to come....)

So, after we'd exhausted our options for amusement in the disappointing town of Winchester, I wracked my brains trying to figure out how to salvage even one nice thing out of our weekend. And then I noticed the movie theater right next to our hotel...which being a "drafthouse" type operation, was something the boys had never experienced. Even better, they were showing (wait for it) Frozen, a film none of us had yet seen. When I suggested to the 12 and 9 year-olds that we take in a princess flick, they were indignant--until I revealed that there would be FOOD involved, at which time they reluctantly agreed to tough it out.

And you know what? To this day, they disparage Winchester as one of the worst places they've ever been (ahem...dramatic exaggeration being a characteristic they might have received from yours truly...) but also list Frozen among their favorite Disney offerings of all time.  In fact, Derek admitted to me just the other day that--with the sequel coming out around Thanksgiving--he looked up the distance from Chapel Hill to...Winchester....to see if if would be feasible for us to drive there and recreate the whole scenario! (Sadly, it's too far...but I also did a little Googling, and it turns out that there's an Alamo Drafthouse in Raleigh, so it just may happen...with a better neighborhood...and hopefully no contagious diseases!)

And finally, Santa Rosa, CA: Next to this one, Husband wrote "aka 'The Hood'", which is what the Male Trio took to calling it when we went on our reconnaissance mission to Northern Cali in 2013. You see, at the time I was intent on relocating us out there, to the consternation of pretty much everyone else in the nuclear and extended clan alike. So they were scrounging for any excuse to find the area unacceptable, even if they had to invent reasons with little or no basis in fact, like "high-crime" or "bad schools". Never mind that we had a delightful time--hiking, playing in state parks, trekking all over San Francisco--they refused to thoroughly let their guard down and embrace the Left Coast while under the threat of having to actually, you know, "become Californians". I suspect they look back upon it much more favorably now that we're safely ensconced in North Carolina...and Derek still wears his Alcatraz Swim and Dive Team souvenir t-shirt, staunchly resisting my gentle suggestions that he discard it, the more faded and threadbare it becomes.

Whew! There you have it: a lengthy and convoluted amble down Memory Lane, pausing at just a few of the highlights, and brought to you by Team WestEnders, gallivanting and creating yarns that no one could make up...since 1995. Stay tuned....we're not inclined to stay put, so surely there'll be more...stuff and nonsense...to come!

Mother's Day #19

Team WestEnders observed a low-key Mother's Day, as per usual for us. One of the nicest things about this year's version was that Derek returned to the fold earlier in the week, so I had both kids home for the holiday. And no matter how much or how little we actually do to mark the occasion--begging your momentary indulgence as I quote a revoltingly schmaltzy saying--the best present...is definitely their presence. (I know, I know: ewwww! I warned you, okay? I promise it won't happen again...soon...)

And on the subject of gifts, there's an amusing story. You see, when Derek arrived back in the nest after his year of...distance learning... he naturally dumped his small pile of belongings in our bonus room to sort, consolidate, weed out, and repack them in preparation for the next time he departs in August. (And can I just say that it warmed my heart to keep him company while he wrangled his possessions--chatting and periodically jumping in to consult when he couldn't quite figure out what to do with a particular item. I'm inordinately pleased that at least SOME of my organizational tendencies rubbed off on him! Mother/Son bonding at its best, lemme tell ya...)


Anyway, I've clearly gotten way off track here, so reining it in: we'd already been laughing at the ridiculous number of free t-shirts bestowed upon him during his first 2 semesters at the university, advertising everything from the school itself, to athletic events, to local businesses. Then at one point he pulled out a sweatshirt depicting his residence hall for the year. I commented on how cool that was, which he brushed off with a disparaging, "No hood; I'll never wear it." I responded with a side-eyed glance, which seemed to cause him a moment of confusion, before he caught on and correctly interpreted, "Oh, right...Mom's always lamenting how hard it is to find non-hoodies for herself....this would be perfect for her!" So he tossed it to me with a cheery, "There you go, Mom. Happy Mother's Day!"

(Hey, it may be a cheap swag hand-me-down from my kid's college, but it made me happy, so that's what counts, right? Besides, with the amount we're paying for his education, I figured it's the very minimum they can do for me...)

Sunday itself included some of our customary activities, such as my outdoor bootcamp/breakfast at Whole Foods with the fitness gang afterwards, and church for me and the boys. There was one slight difference in the latter, however: lately Riley has been using the drive to services as behind-the-wheel practice, to amass hours that he needs to log before he can get his actual license. Thus I think this might have been the first time I've been in the passenger seat, with Derek in the back and Riley chauffeuring us...which provided one of those weird/disconcerting "the kids are too grown-up for my comfort" moments that happen on an unfortunately regular basis. (Siiiighhh...)

On the way home we detoured to Kohl's, to purchase socks for the college dude who refused to be bothered with replacing his worn-out ones during the academic term, and therefore brought a mound of tattered, holey, unusable rags back...for the garbage. (Um...thanks for that, sweetie...)Then while we were already out...at lunchtime...we made a snap decision to take the opportunity to dine at one of Riley's and my faves (Mediterranean Deli, a much-loved Chapel Hill institution offering a dizzying variety of super-tasty dishes). Impromptu (delicious) fun with the fam--yay!

After completing our agenda of communing with God, accomplishing errands, and foraging, we headed back to the homestead for a relaxing afternoon. I also got to enjoy my actual surprises, which included cards, flowers, a Dunkin' Donuts giftcard, and dark chocolate peanut butter cups. First of all, do my guys know me, or what? Secondly, they chose wisely on the candy, which came from a brand that I trust so much I don't even have to read the labels anymore. (But Husband--less well-versed in the world of organic/gluten-free/environmentally friendly/etc. declared "You should have seen us in the store, scrutinizing the ingredients. We did our homework!" Nicely done, gentlemen...)

All-in-all, it was a pleasant and satisfying Dia de Madres, most notably marked by good food and Team WestEnders togetherness. Truly, what more can a girl ask for? Now if you'll excuse me, there are some sweets calling my name....mmmm....

The final 'burgs

For the final foray of our adventurous group's Civil War expedition, it was up and at 'em again early on Sunday. First, we retreated (ha!) from Gettysburg in yet another tempest of blinding rain. (And can I just say, "Okay, you've made your point, Pennsylvania; we're leaving, already!" Sheesh!) Several hours later--after a journey eerily devoid of bumper-to-bumper traffic, miles-long snarls, or other infuriating nonsense I expect when confronting Interstate 95--we congregated in Fredericksburg, Virginia for interactive lesson #1 of the day.

We began at Chatham Manor, a stately house perched high atop a steep hill and boasting a lovely panoramic view of the Rappahannock River below, as well as the city beyond its far banks. Belonging to a Southern slaveholder who left to fight for the Confederacy, the property was overtaken and occupied by Union forces in 1862. With Lee's troops across the water in Fredericksburg, General Ambrose Burnside opted to wait for the arrival of pontoon boats to assist in moving his men and equipment to the other side....even though one of his own officers reported how he'd observed the river being safely and quickly forded by some local farmers and their livestock. Because of his refusal to act, the Northern army then had to spend the Winter camped out on the grounds, presumably taking the extra time to strategize and plan for their eventual campaign.

Things went poorly in the Spring, however, when they finally got around to engaging. Our resident history teacher described it as "the Union version of Pickett's charge", with wave after wave of soldiers fruitlessly attempting to attack the strong Confederate position on higher ground. So to sum up: one more lousy showing based on monumentally bad decision-making by a commander of the Army of the Potomac...who was then removed by Lincoln (probably in disgust, at this point. And who could blame him, really? In case you haven't caught it yet, the repeating motif here is that it's honestly a miracle the Union ever prevailed....)

From there, we explored the battlefield itself, along with the inevitable cemetery--both tucked unobtrusively into a quiet corner of modern-day Fredericksburg. And then it was back into the cars to mosey 90 minutes or so to our final stop of the entire weekend hullabaloo: Petersburg, Virginia. As we approached the Visitor's Center, for the first time on this trip I realized with a jolt...I recognized nothing! Somehow, having managed to visit all of the surrounding historically significant locales (Chancellorsville, the Wilderness--heck, I even stopped by the place where they buried Stonewall Jackson's ARM, for crying out loud. And you should believe me, 'cuz I couldn't even make that up if I tried...) I'd just...missed this one. It's a mystery, I tell ya...

Anyway, this meant that I got brand new information, which was super-cool. And what I learned was: Petersburg was a gateway to Richmond, the Confederacy's capital, and also seated on multiple rail lines that the Union wanted to wrest from the South's control. However...in an all-too-familiar refrain...another Union general's dithering ("Baldy" Smith, as ignominious a name as I've ever heard)...and actually disobeying orders (From Ulysses S. Grant. Seriously, would YOU defy this dude? I'm thinking No. Damn. Way.)...prevented what could have been a decisive Northern victory that ended the war (yet again), but instead led to a grueling almost-11-month siege instead.

This included the Battle of the Crater, in which a group of miners from Pennsylvania approached Grant with an idea that involved digging a secret tunnel--finishing up underneath the Confederates' position--and then blowing it up. That part all went according to plan, and the explosion produced a hole 130 feet long, 60 feet wide, and 30 feet deep, killing 352 Confederate soldiers in the process. However, in the ensuing chaos and confusion, Union troops rushed into combat without direction, while the Southerners recovered quickly and rallied a deadly response, dispatching far more of their enemy than they had lost in the blast. (And Burnside was fired. Shocker...) It didn't ultimately matter, since Union forces simply outlasted the Confederacy's battered, depleted resistance to take the city in early April of 1865--and the conclusion came a week later with Grant and Lee's fateful meeting at Appomattox Courthouse to finalize the official surrender.

Whew! At this point, my head was FULL of facts and figures and...whatnot, y'all. It had been an educational, enjoyable, enlightening 3-days of live-action school, and I was W-I-P-E-D. But wait, I had to stay awake for 2 more hours of driving homeward--assisted by caffeinated beverages, I'm not ashamed to say. And I think it's a safe bet that after 800+ miles behind the wheel over a long weekend I'm staying put for a while! At least until I figure out what's next...stay tuned!

The first of a trio of 'burgs

For Saturday's continuation of the Civil War on-site lecture series, an intrepid group of North Carolinians (comprised of both natives and transplants like me, but all claiming Union sympathies, regardless of the fact that our adopted state chose to fight for the--ahem--wrong side) stormed Gettysburg National Battlefield Park. This has long been one of my personal favorites, with its pastoral landscapes, vast acreage for roaming by car and on foot, and plethora of interesting monuments to inform and entertain.

The "class" enjoyed another bonanza of fascinating tidbits from our expert history teacher/fearless leader, but for me, the highlight came when we recreated the infamous Pickett's Charge, which happened on the final day of the conflict. Ordered by Robert E. Lee, the assault pitted 15,000 Confederate troops against General Meade's smaller Northern force, who were holding higher ground known as Cemetery Ridge. A questionable foray across an open patch of unprotected farmland, it resulted in massive casualties for the Southern army, a decisive Union victory--and also marked the last time Lee would invade the North.



Fortunately, we were spared the crushing heat and humidity suffered by the participants in July of 1863....but we did get to trudge our way through mucky terrain and traverse formidable puddles, thanks to last night's torrential downpours...so, kind of an authentic experience? (That's about as realistic as we'd like it to be, honestly...) Our imaginations were certainly challenged by the task of trying to visualize the carnage while surrounded by picturesque barns and rolling hills carpeted in cheerful yellow wildflowers, but we did our best. (Aided by the pictured Rebel-suited gentleman, who overtook us on the path and stopped to insert himself into the narrative for a while...)

Later, I also took some time on my own to stroll through the cemetery. ('Cuz let's face it, we're all well aware of my inexplicable obsession with graveyards by now, yeah?) It's a lovely, peaceful place--while also managing to convey a somber reminder of the horrific consequences that resulted from prolonged, brutal, bloody combat in the devastating War Between the States.

I'm not gonna lie--by the time we'd completed our programmed activities (7-1/2 hours and 20,000 steps after we started the clock in the morning, if you're curious) I was pretty beat. So I mindfully made the choice to pass the remainder of my evening in grateful appreciation of some very special modern conveniences and luxuries...such as television, air conditioning, hot showers, clean clothes, cold beverages, and restaurant food! After all, I knew I'd have to set an alarm for Sunday, so I could roll out bright and early (eh, or more likely "fairly sleepy and moderately grumpy", but whatever) to meet the gang at our next scheduled stop in Fredericksburg. And this would-be war correspondent needs some serious shut-eye, so for now, good night, Pennsylvania!

A weekend education

You might recall me telling you about the Civil War lecture series I attended in February, taught by one of Riley's High School teachers. Well, as a sort of culminating activity, he also leads a field trip for those who wish to visit some of the battlefields with a professional historian/exceptional storyteller. Sure, I've been to all of the locations myself at least once--but never with the benefit of a formal tour or a dedicated guide (who has devoted his life to studying world conflicts, it seems) to highlight some of the strategies, provide colorful details, give in-depth description, and offer intelligent analysis of the proceedings and outcomes. (Soooo much more entertaining than just reading the plaques, y'all!)

Anyway, can we agree that this seemed like the very definition of a no-brainer for me? So I signed right up, and prepared myself for a whirlwind experience. You see, we'd be covering 5 sites, in 4 states (not even including the the travel portion in NC), over 3 days. Whew! There's clearly no time to waste, so let's get started with Day 1: Harper's Ferry and Antietam. We heard all about John Brown's Raid, an ill-fated, poorly planned and recklessly executed attempt to gain control of the armory and, apparently, start some kind of "free black nation" if he was successful. Not only did he fail, but he was ultimately hung for his crimes. (The town itself--nestled in the mountains, on the confluence of the Potomac and Shenandoah rivers--is quite lovely, though!)

From there, we motored over to Antietam (which I suppose I really should call Sharpsburg, after the Union fashion) to take in the sprawling battleground and listen to tales about the "bloodiest single day of the war", in which 23,000 young men were killed, wounded, or missing after 12 hours of brutal combat. I'll spare you the gruesome specifics, and sum up the takeaway from this particular clash between, among others, George McClellan and Robert E. Lee: the Northern general had several opportunities to strike decisively at the South's much smaller forces, cripple the Confederate army, and bring the whole ugly War Between the States to an end. In each instance, he grappled with indecision and declined to act, thus prolonging the agony of a divided America for another 2-1/2 devastating years.

Another thing I'd either forgotten after many years out of class, or never learned in the first place, is that although neither side could claim a clear victory, it was the first time Lee had been forced to withdraw from a confrontation. President Lincoln, feeling encouraged that the tide might finally be turning, then issued the Emancipation Proclamation 4 months later. Because of this action, European nations, who had already abolished slavery, would no longer recognize or trade with the Confederacy. And because of the damage this caused to their economic situation--in terms of both commerce and obtaining supplies for their troops and citizens--this ultimately signaled the beginning of the end for the aspiring independent nation.


Fascinating stuff, I tell ya. (Yeah, yeah, I know: Nerd Girl. I'm okay with it...) Having relived the terrible events of a nightmare day of bloodshed, we were done with the learning portion of our afternoon. All we had to accomplish after that was a relatively brief drive to Gettysburg, where we'd be bunking (not literally, thank goodness!) for the night. Easy peasy, yeah? Ha! Tell that to the capricious Weather Gods, who unleashed a MOTHER of a storm...which, apparently, we needed to navigate ALL THE WAY THROUGH to reach our hotel. Let me recap the relevant details: visibility? Damn near nada. Rain? Hmm...imagine trying to pilot one's vehicle through a carwash, (but without the helpful rails to keep you headed in the right direction. Just had to, you know, "make your best guess" as to where the lines, curves in the road, etc. might be. Super-exciting! And by that I mean "utterly terrifying" and "potentially deadly at any moment"!)


What else...right, thunder? Yep, like Thor himself was swinging that gigantic hammer of his (and not in a cute Chris Hemsworth way, either. Dang it...). Oh, and my favorite--lightning! In fact, one time it flashed right over my car, so close that I couldn't help jumping in my seat....and I could actually smell the burned ozone afterwards! Yaaayyyy! All of the...pandemonium...was so loud that I couldn't even hear the GPS, with my phone turned to maximum volume. Yeeeaahhh....that may very well have been in the Top 3 most harrowing jaunts I've ever taken, in all my years behind the wheel.

But here I am in--what state again? Right, Pennsylvania...where I'll join up with my group tomorrow morning to do the full-day Gettysburg shebang. It's been a loooonnnng day, and my bed is calling, so I'm going to turn in....and hopefully have peaceful, sunny dreams!

A few of my favorite things, 2019 Edition

After Derek's birthday ("family celebration pending") next up in the Team WestEnders queue is...why, that would be MEEEEE. So you might be wondering what a middle-aged woman does to commemorate another year on Earth. Well, let me tell ya, it's super-exciting stuff, so hold on to your hats while I clue you in to the momentous events that occurred in my pre-bday week o'fun:

--To kick off the festivities, we have my monthly consultation with....the chiropractor! Yaaayyyy! No, seriously, I love my new guy (to whom I was abruptly forced to switch allegiance, after the insurance-company-that-shall-not-be-named unceremoniously dumped my former practitioner without warning to either of us...). He's not only gentle (when popping my neck and back into alignment), but he also explains everything he's doing, the science behind it, and why it works.

And sometimes there are even bonus pearls of wisdom--for example, when we were just chatting, and I happened to mention that my heel has been hurting lately after I run, and I can't figure out what's causing it or how to alleviate the bruised feeling. He listened thoughtfully, asked a couple of clarifying questions, then whipped out a diagram of the pertinent musculature and showed me where he thought the problem lay. And his recommendation? Put a golf ball in the freezer, then roll the sole of my foot over it when I finish my workout. Yep, folks, this is what happens when you become a...ahem...Lady of a Certain Age: a productive healthcare visit becomes the best surprise of all! (Hahahahahaha!)

--Ooh, speaking of presents...oh, right, Husband and I recently made the Very Grown-Up Decision to replace our house's aged HVAC system...which pretty much covers several years' worth of: both of our birthdays, Mother's and Father's Days, hmm, what else...yeah, better throw in our anniversary too. But at least now we'll have a pleasantly cool and/or warm home, no matter what the feckless NC weather bring our way. So I suppose you could say it's like the gift that keeps on giving (while you continue to pay for it, of course, with convenient monthly installments)! Let's just go with that and move along...

--Another blessing has been that my intransigent left knee has finally agreed to cease being a royal freakin' pain and just calm the heck down, already. So, running has actually reverted to a pleasant way to spend time, rather than, you know, a "torturous activity". Thus I decided to participate in a gathering I'd heard about, but never attended: the weekly Fleet Feet runs that start and end at Ponysaurus Brewing Co. in Durham. I knew that several bootcamp friends tend go on a regular basis--and there's a 3-mile option, so I figured it could be amusing. Sure enough, it turned out to be an interesting route through downtown...which I would never have been able to trace on my own, so I focused on keeping at least one seasoned veteran in my line of sight the entire time, lest I become hopelessly lost in Bull City! Not a bad way to spend a pre-birthday evening, for sure!

--And then, notable only because it's something I DIDN'T do...last year the boys and I saw Avengers: Infinity War the weekend before my birthday (which was emotionally wrenching, and in retrospect perhaps not the wisest choice, but who knew?). In 2019 we have the arrival of Avengers: Endgame, possibly the most-hyped film in the history of cinema, not to mention one that everyone is losing their minds over, both before and after seeing it. But...Derek's away at school, Riley claims he's "over the Marvel movies" (words that don't even make sense to me, honestly)...and so I'm waiting (ever so patiently...YEAH RIGHT) until the college kid comes home to be my theater date. It doesn't help that he texted me at 1:45 a.m. after experiencing it on opening night, to say that it was "a whirlwind". It's all good. I can do this. Nine. More. Days. (And by the way, NO ONE tell me ANYTHING, 'kaythanks!)

--Finally, I took advantage of a gorgeous Sunday afternoon to check out a small event called Arts on Market, taking place in a nearby community and featuring various craft vendors. It was a chance to stroll around in the sunshine, admire beautiful things created by talented people...and of course purchase myself a couple of small tokens, in honor of my latest trip around the sun! (I mean, c'mon...sparkly earrings and a beautiful handmade coffee mug are kind of no-brainers for me...not to mention useful...and therefore guilt-free!) Husband and Riley also came through with the appropriate swag (you can never go wrong with Ghirardelli...and nature, amiright?). Even Derek remembered to text his mother (because he set an electronic reminder. So adult of him...), in the midst of his LDOC shenanigans (Last Day of Classes, for fellow members of the way-post-university crowd).

And what better way to start off my special day than with a big old cup of my favorite brew? That's right, today is all about doing what I want. So I think I'm gonna go read for a while...maybe break off some of that dark chocolate....and take a nap! Yeah...that's the ticket...(tomorrow it'll be back to business as usual, I promise!)

Late...but with a good excuse?!

A bit of nostalgia this week, as one member of Team WestEnders recently marked a birthday...his first one away from home (pause...sniffle...okay, continue). I mean, it's not like we normally throw blowout parties or perform...I don't know...complicated celebratory rituals...or anything. That's just not how we roll.

But it still felt weird to skip the events that we usually DO mark the occasion with, such as the ever-popular "choose what you'd like Dad to cook for your actual birthday dinner". Coupled, of course, with my unique contribution: "What kind of cake should I make you?" (No one else in the fam bakes, so that one's all me--yaaaayyy!) Oh, and let's not forget, "Here are your presents, which are exactly what you requested, since you're now technically an adult and therefore impossible to buy for without a specific list". And finally, "Where do you want to eat out, when it's more convenient, like the closest Saturday?"

Instead, each of us sent him a text that morning, wishing him a happy 19th...and then we all went about our regularly scheduled weekday. In fact, he'd told me he probably wasn't going to even notice or recognize his birth-iversary in any fun or meaningful way, because it happens to fall right smack in the middle of the "last wave" of tests and projects and whatnot before the end of his semester, and he had a ton of work and studying to get done. I remember thinking, "Aw, poor baby. Doesn't sound like a good time at all." (On the other hand, I'd apologize for the timing...but you're the one who decided to jump the gun and pop out 3 weeks early, so...sorry, not sorry!)

However, I did have what I considered a brainstorm when Riley and I--walking together along Franklin Street near UNC last weekend--passed a little establishment called Insomnia Cookies. It suddenly occurred to me that such a business probably exists in, oh, nearly EVERY college town across America...and they'd therefore be able to deliver some tasty treats to my distant celebrant. Aha!

Well, I thought it was a darn good plan...but it turns out the whole thing is somewhat more... complicated and time consuming...than I realized. Not the ordering itself--that simply involved visiting their website, choosing which delectable goodies you want them to stash in the box, entering the recipient's address, and completing the virtual payment. Easy peasy, cookies on the way, right? Ahem. You see, I was guilty of a fatal error in logic: I figured it was obvious that the baked bites would be sent out from the local store, near his university, making the "shipping" quick and painless. But...noooo.

Instead, the package is assembled and sent from a corporate location...which just happens to be in Pennsylvania...several states away...thus requiring multiple days of transport. Dang it! On top of that, I also committed a logistical miscalculation. Since I was laboring under the assumption that the whole transaction would be carried out in Columbia, and they'd be familiar with the UofSC housing arrangements, I used his actual dorm location and room number. (I suppose I was thinking of it kind of like a balloon-o-gram, or bouquet from a florist. That seems totally legit, yeah?)

And yet, apparently that's not the case at all, since the FedEx driver was turned away, without being allowed to leave his precious cargo. Siiighhhh. I then had to contact customer service, provide them his mailing address, wait for the stupid box to make its way BACK TO PA where it was accepted and accounted for, and then RE-SENT southward again. Fortunately, Derek knows nothing of  my plan, nor the whole debacle of its execution, so when he does eventually receive his very belated gift, it will be a complete surprise...and thus even more exciting? Suuuuure, let's go with that.

Honestly, in retrospect it would have been faster and less trouble to drive the freakin' thing down to him myself. Eh, for next year, I already know what to do, so this will all go soooo much more smoothly! (Plus, he'll be living in an off-campus apartment, so super-strict university postage rules be damned! Ha!) At least his CARDS arrived ahead of time (not that he ever checks his mailbox...unless I remind him...so he probably hasn't picked them up...ay yi yi...). And he sent me a photo the day after, with what looks like a pinata...featuring Queen Elsa and Princess Anna from Frozen (which he proudly lists as one of his top-rated Disney flicks of all time)...and the caption "Birthday celebrations got slightly out of control yesterday." So clearly he managed to squeeze in some entertainment amidst the homework....which should make for a doozy of a story during our next chat!

Speaking of which, during last Sunday's catch-up phone call, he and I did discuss how to formally handle the bday shenanigans--and we came to the conclusion that, given the timing of his semester-wrap-up and return to Casa WestEnders, it makes sense to postpone any official activities until then. Besides, it'll be just past his and my special days, and a little before Husband's, so Derek came up with the idea of: Combined Spring Birthday...Extravaganza....or what have you (official title TBD). There you have it--a new tradition kicking off in 2019...where we can enjoy a whirlwind tour of several favorite eateries, cook lots of beloved dishes, and have All. The. Cake. Hey, this plan (heavily-food-based--which is a recurring theme of ours, as you've probably guessed) kind of rocks. Yummm!

Lady of Leisure*

*Okay, that might be slightly misleading. What I mean to convey is that, in between all the boring-but-crucial errands and household management tasks and, you know, "searching for meaningful employment", I've been fortunate to squeeze in some of the more entertaining stuff lately. Here's a rundown:

I enjoyed spending time with two wonderful ladies--both of whom I've counted among my friends since waaaay back in the O.G. playgroup days (the gang that was formed by the Olney Mom's Club when Derek was just a wee babe of 5 months!). One had traveled to the area from her home in Atlanta for her son to take a specialized foreign language exam being offered in Raleigh. We made the most of their brief stay at Casa WestEnders by catching up on each others' lives, taking in the Chapel Hill/Carrboro scenery, and dining at one of my fave establishments (The Spotted Dog...any excuse to patronize this gluten-free and vegan-friendly joint, because...yummm!).

The other had come down from our old hometown in Maryland, to see a dance showcase at UNC, in which her Freshman daughter would be performing with the company. She picked up extra tickets and invited me, along with another family we both know, to come along...but first we took advantage of the glorious April weather to stroll along Franklin Street, people-watching, window-shopping, and soaking in the bubbly college-town atmosphere. Oh, and also lunching at another go-to, "Med Deli", where I know from (tasty) experience that the variety, freshness, and healthy options pretty much satisfy everyone.

Finally, after the dazzling array of pirouettes, jetes, arabesques, and....other graceful, lovely feats...we accompanied the hungry dancer to a restaurant of her choosing. (Hops--a new one for me, but the young lady, a fellow member of the Vegetarian Club, assured me they made a good non-meat burger...and she was right!)

Whew! That was a whole lotta...socializing...and eating out...for me! Switching gears: I've had the opportunity to get involved with a couple of awesome volunteer organizations lately. For example, there's TABLE, a non-profit that provides meals to neighborhood kids. I try to remember as often as possible to donate items that they request when they're running low. But this time I noticed a call for help on Twitter, for dropping off bags of food at nearby schools, to distribute to the students who need it. Yep, sounds like a worthwhile Thursday morning endeavor to me--put me in, coach!

Moving right along: I mentioned First Pages in a previous post, when I described their recent read-aloud fundraiser held in downtown Durham. Well, it turns out that the founder (who's also our bootcamp leader, incidentally) also could use help delivering boxes of books to the businesses that pass them along to needy children. Done! And--more amusingly--she also solicited participants to help sort, weed out, and organize the mountains of books currently residing...and taking up more than their fair share of valuable real estate...in her garage.

Thus a small but determined contingent of ladies found ourselves picking through, evaluating, and re-boxing cardboard, paperback, and hard-cover stories, keeping the best, ditching the outdated or damaged...laughing at the absurd (far too many potty tales, and one VERY disturbingly graphic narrative describing "God's plan for mommies and daddies"! Cringe...)...and reminiscing over some sentimental reminders (Awww...Click Clack Moo! We used to looooove that one!). To sum up: doing good + feeling good = Win/Win!

Next, in our Department of Culture (Sure we have one of those...it's just....um...down the hall. What? No one's there? Eh, maybe they're busy, I don't know...WRITING or something...check back later...), I'll be attending the latest installment of Pop-Up Broadway, to sing several of my absolute best-loved girl-power-car-karaoke numbers, Defying Gravity from Wicked and Let It Go from Frozen. (Memo to Me: time spent transporting snacks to schools in one's mobile Subaru studio can double as rehearsal before tonight's gig. Two birds, one stone, boom!)

And finally, since I relished the Civil War lectures so much (taught by a highly respected and locally renowned CHHS teacher), I registered for the second series, focusing on World War II. (Because, you know, "never stop learning", keep the old brain stimulated, and whatnot. Nah...who am I trying to kid? Going to class is just super-fun, y'all! Or is that just me? Eh, "nerd for life", what can I say?)

There you have it: the continuing adventures of Queen WestEnders during her precious goof-off/self-improvement time. But now, sadly, duty does call once more--in the form of a Costco list that begs to be addressed. Ooh, wait a second...more choral practice on the 30-minute commute! La la la la la la laaaaaa!

(Pre) College Prep 2.0

Today's tale feels an awful lot like deja vu at first glance...but features a slight twist on the memory. You see, it was yet another one of those "college visits" that became so familiar to Team WestEnders over the past couple of years as Derek tried to figure out where he wanted to receive his higher education. However, this was the first one initiated by the younger son, not as a tag-along, but solely for his own benefit.

Now, you might be thinking, "Isn't he only a Sophomore? It seems too early to be even thinking about this!" And you would not be wrong. But therein lies one undeniable advantage to being a second sibling: having gone through all the...school search hoopla....with his brother, Riley gained advance knowledge of the process, and a head start on figuring out how he wants to play it for himself.

So while Husband and I took the lead initially with Derek--because he needed a kick in the butt to get moving--Riley is already researching, evaluating, and planning his own strategic attack, if you will, on the task. For example, he asked me one day if he could modify the spreadsheet I created for Derek, which contains potentially appealing universities within a 300 mile radius or so, by adding, deleting, and/or updating information. (Um...YES, please do!) Then he mentioned that he was thinking it might be a good idea to go ahead and schedule a tour of N.C. State during his Spring Break, because it's so close, and easy to "get out of the way". (Again...you betcha!)

Thus he reserved our spots a couple of months ago, we marked our calendars, and last Friday he and I made our way to Raleigh for the...festivities. When we arrived, we first dutifully sat and listened to the welcome presentation--which we found both interesting and informative. (One fun fact to prove I was paying attention: NCSU is one of only 2 public research institutions in the state. They didn't say, but I'd bet a lot of money that UNC is the other...)

Then, due to the fact that it's a sprawling campus, we got back in the car to move to our next rendezvous point outside the student union building. During this journey, we happened to pass a veritable fleet of out-of-town buses and vans sporting the names of other schools from all over the country. (New England, the South, Great Lakes Region, Mid-Atlantic--there didn't appear to be any geographic rhyme or reason to the participants, and the whole scene was nuts, I tell ya...) The reason became apparent as we approached our designated parking deck, and heard the loudspeaker announcing upcoming events...in the gigantic track meet happening in the stadium 50 yards away.

This caused me a small amount of concern, given that neither Riley nor I is terribly fond of hordes, per se...or, you know..."chaos" in general. But when I made a comment to this effect, he shrugged and said, "Eh, I'm used to crowded hallways that are too small for the amount of students...so it actually feels like there's enough room for everyone here, and it doesn't bother me." Well, alrighty then! We followed our chatty tour guides around the grounds, taking in the sights and the wealth of data about academics, support services, residence halls, dining facilities, entertainment and leisure opportunities, etc.

I'd say it was a nice overview for a first-time visitor just beginning to dip their proverbial toe in the post-high-school waters and explore their college options. Once the official portion of our day ended, Riley and I set out on our own to hit a couple of extras of particular interest to him--such as the rec center...and the separate section known as Centennial Campus, which holds the dorms and classrooms for the Engineering program (after obtaining an iced coffee for me, at one of the 11 java-serving places scattered around the university, according to one of the coeds leading our group. As far as I'm concerned, this goes in the Plus column, for sure. Well done, State...).

After we'd seen enough to satisfy Riley, and were ready to wrap up our investigational field trip, I asked for his impressions. In his typical logical fashion, he summed it up by stating that based on our expedition and observations, he wouldn't rule out NCSU as a potential contender...nor would he move it higher up the list of his current favorites.

The only criticism he voiced was that the Centennial Campus--while certainly giving the appearance of being quite new, clean, and...I don't know...high-tech?--felt very disconnected from the rest of the school. He added that it looked to him like a bunch of offices, not like somewhere he'd want to live. His observation made me realize that since we'd driven into that section, we hadn't seen One. Person. No hustle and/or bustle. No teeming humanity...no activity whatsoever, as a matter of fact. It was quite a contrast from the lively, energetic buzz happening in the central area. And so...duly noted!

And with that, we bid Raleigh a cheery farewell and headed out into mild rush-hour traffic to return to our own Chapel Hill part of the Triangle. It was a successful kickoff to Riley's Great College Quest...and now with that experience under our belts, we can move on to tackling a more difficult one...but maybe during the Summer months!