Running Away to Paradise

Sasha has been working on our scrapbooks lately, and sorting photos and ticket stubs with her reminds me of how much I love these blog posts and being able to look back at the stories of our lives. With the convenience of posting to social media, I don't come back and write blog posts about our big trips and adventures as much as I once did (admittedly, there are fewer trips and adventures than there were!), and I miss having the recaps and retellings. 

I won't commit to our tens of readers to start blogging regularly again, I know myself too well to promise such a thing. But I do like writing and I want to continue to practice to write well, so we shall see.

Like everybody else, our summer and fall plans got completely scrambled by COVID-19. In the fall, I started getting advertisements for all-inclusive places and it got me thinking - maybe that could work as a style of travel in the age of coronavirus? Usually when we travel we go to a new place and plant and explore. We love to get to know the texture of a new place, and as we acquired more kids it became increasingly important to travel with a less packed itinerary. It turns out that my husband also prefers to explore rather than plan too much ahead of time. So, apparently, I'm the only person who eagerly anticipates a pre-planed agenda. Who knew? (answer: everybody). 

To be clear, I still think it's important to schedule a few key activities. They'll never break me of that. But I also have learned to appreciate the fun of meandering.

Anyway, an "explore the local texture" vacation clearly doesn't work right now. But, I thought, maybe the all-inclusive thing could actually work. We'd be able to get to know the environment, and if we went somewhere warm we could be outside the majority of the time. Plus, rates were killer. 

So, after lots of thinking and planning we decided to go for 10 days in the Dominican Republic. In full disclosure, I tested positive for COVID-19 2 weeks after we returned, so the evidence shows that the wisdom of this whole plan is clearly suspect. Judge if you must.

I'll also say that while planes themselves and the resort felt very coronavirus-aware with lots of precautions taken, the airports and immigration lines were another thing altogether with lots of partially-masked people in tight spaces. So, the experiment of traveling in a global pandemic was of mixed results.

All of the above notwithstanding, the trip was such a blessing. 10 days in the sun, perfect weather, getting to practice my Spanish, being together as a family. Also, after the stressful 9 months that we and all the world have persevered through, a decision-free vacation was particularly sweet. We've never done the all-inclusive thing before and after experiencing it, I will definitely agree that the no-stress, no-planning vacation has its place.

Most of our days were pretty darn boring (read: exactly what we were looking for). Lots of time at the beach and at the pool reading and taking naps. Lots of piña coladas. The hotel was only about 20% occupied, so we never had to compete for space in a lounge chair or at a restaurant, which was super sweet.

Here are the memories that stick out with extra fondness for me:

1. Sailing! 

The resort had paddleboards and kayaks that you could sign out, and they also had a little Hobie Cat! Steve and I sailed in college a lot, but after college and moving to a landlocked state, we've only been out a few times. Boy did we make up for lost time over Thanksgiving!

We took the boat out just about every day - sometimes just one or two of us, sometimes a boatload (4 - it was a small boat). We had so much fun! It took Steve and me a few tries to remember how the heck to sail, but it really did come back quickly and we had so much fun zipping around the little bay in front of the hotel.

2. Chartering a boat!

Tours and activities were limited on our trip, for obvious reasons, but there were still some activities available that seemed like a good idea. One was a boat trip. And it was only a little more to charter the boat privately, so we figured, why not?

Well, we definitely didn't realize what we were signing up for - this boat was HUGE! This photo, for example, was taken from the upper deck of the boat rented for the 7 of us plus 2 crew. It was decadent and fabulous.

Everything about the boat trip was great, but the best part was stopping at a sand bar. We spent roughly two hours at this sand bar throwing sand balls at each other. The sand was just so fluffy and that you could pack it down like moonsand and toss it back and forth. It's definitely the most fun we've ever had playing catch. The open bar on the boat probably didn't hurt.

3. Ben Unicycling at circus night

As you can imagine, one of the great trials of this trip was Ben surviving for 10 days without a unicycle. I think the unlimited room service almost made up for it, but it was still a long time to go without a unicycle. 

On Thanksgiving, the resort had a circus night festival and one of the clowns had a unicycle that he kindly let Ben borrow. It was so fun to see Ben in his element in a foreign country just enjoying being on one wheel. And the clown was duly impressed by Ben's unicycle skills.

Here's a bonus picture from that night, because nothing says Thanksgiving like a pirate and a bunny on stilts:

4. Nightly cribbage games with Ben

I don't have any pics of this one, so instead I will substitute a photo of us playing Uno with plastic cards in the pool (also a darn fine memory). 

Pretty much every night after the girls hit the hay, Ben, Steve, and I would sit out on our ridiculously beautiful patio and play a game or two of three-handed cribbage. It was sweet and fun and Ben is unacceptably good at the game.

5. The countryside tour

The other "excursion" we opted for was a countryside tour. We got to go see a local neighborhood and school and then visit a community farm where they grow and process coffee and cocoa (the photo is of WanYing with cocoa beans growing on the tree). It was so fun to see more of the beautiful island, learn about the DR's history and culture, and enjoy some darn delicious samples of cocoa, coffee, and mama juana (a spiced rum typical to the Dominican Republic).

6. Chilaxing together

No explanation needed.

We had a phenomenal Thanksgiving in the Dominican Republic. In fact... it just might be time to go back ;)

Clothes Masquerading as What They Are Not

I have a list of things to blog aobut that actually matter. I want to write more about my thoughts and learnings about racism. I want to tell you about our family travels. I want to plumb truths about self-care. 

But tonight I find myself at home and alone (note: not actually home alone, that never happens, but the others who are home are doing other things) and sitting by a backbard patio fire in the chill autumn air and I want to rant about a pet peeve of zero consequence (as they all are) that I simply cannot let go of. 

I like to think of myself as an easygoing person. Certainly choosing the husband I have (a very easygoing guy) and surviving a household of children has taught me some excellent lessons in flexibility. My years and the lessons they have contained have loosened my own moral rigidity in some very healthy, Godly ways. But I can't stoop so far as to allow clothing into my life that is pretending to be a thing it is not. 

We can start this diatribe with pants with faux pockets. No, let's not even admit that these atrocities could be something worthy of french - they are fake pockets. These are the dumbest things on earth, I think we can all agree to that. I occasionally get Stitch Fix shipments (God bless you, Stitch Fix) that contain pants with fake pockets and I immediately send them back. There's no point in even trying them on. Fake pockets are evil. Sure, the front of the pants are rendered smooth, but my own front is lumpy enough to counteract any benefit provided by the pants. No fake pockets. Not ever. I know my phone will only fit into the pockets of 10% of the pants I own because their pockets are still ridiculously small, but at least they are pockets. 

But my rules about clothing go far, far deeper than this. I also can't handle prints of patterns that are meant to be woven in. Perhaps this is a thing you've never thought about, and that is good for you because it means your psyche is healthier than my own, but I can't handle things like: 

• Printed stripes. This is wrong; stripes are supposed to be woven into the fabric
• Printed plaid patterns (plaids, ginghams, checks, houndstooth, all of them). For all the same reasons as the above only double because the stripes go both ways.
• Prints on sweaters. I once got a lovely sweater with flowers printed on it, but I returned it even though I thought it was really pretty because I knew I would never wear it. Sweaters are supposed to have the patterns knitted in, not printed on. 

Now, I’m sure we could come up with many exceptions to my rules above that I gladly admit into my closet. For example, I am OK with printed t-shirts, which are basically just sweaters with tiny knits, right? But now you’re just getting pedantic (ha ha, yes, I get the irony since this is possibly the most pedantic diatribe ever written).

I have one exception to this rule: novelty printed bike jerseys. Because, come on, these things are just so gosh darn cool.

The other thing I just can’t handle in my wardrobe are animal prints. I know the popularity of these prints comes and goes and that’s fine, it’s just not a trend I ever participate in. I don’t think it’s because I’m particularly against wearing animal skins or a depiction of animal skins... I think it goes back to my dislike for clothing masquerading as what it is not. I guess that deep down I just think that if you’re going to wear a tiger-print top, you should just wear a pelt. I don’t know... I’m not trying to justify my aversion... I just know that I can’t own animal prints. 

There is also one exception in my wardrobe to this rule: the RBG leopard print shirt that my husband purchased for me a few years ago. I don’t even have to justify this, it’s obvious that this should be in every woman’s closet regardless of her internal rules on animal prints.

I’ve experienced these aversions to clothes masquerading as what they are not for a long time and I’ve reflected a bit on what it means about my own character and personality. I do think that to some extent this is all a reflection of some of my own black-and-white thinking that I just can’t let go of. I do think it’s a (misguided) reflection of my deep passion for integrity and being wholly who one is.  

I don’t think these rules need to or should apply to anybody else, much like most of the other norms that rule my daily patterns (I am such a creature of habit). That is, don’t feel weird wearing printed stripes around me. 

Strange as they are, I stand by my rules. At least I know what I like and what I don’t. And if you ever see me wearing a printed sweater and pants with faux pockets, congratulate me for finally transcending my own rigidity.

But, let’s be real, it’s never going to happen.

On Bike Rides and Ineffecient Time Investment

For a few weeks, I've desperately been wanting to ride Goshen Canyon. There's no logical explanation for my devotion to this canyon - it's certainly not anywhere near the most spectacular in Utah, it's a short 10 mile ride so it's barely enough to get your pulse moving, it's 45 minutes away. But I think it's awfully pretty and the canyon holds a bunch of happy memories for me, including being on the route of the very first century ride I completed.

Anyway, with all of the organized rides cancelled this year, I've had "Ride Goshen Canyon" on my family activity wishlist all summer. 

Last Sunday we had the perfect weather, Ben had a unicycling friend over who wanted to take a ride, and we decided to (i.e. I talked my family into) take a ride in Goshen Canyon. 

And then reality sunk in. Steve needed to change his bike tube. I needed to get the tandem bike shipshape. We needed to figure out how to get 6 people, an ebike, a tandem, a youth road bike, and two 36-inch unicycles into vehicles. The best vehicle to take would be Rainy, but she was rather stubbornly refusing to start. We had to figure out our one-way route plan (who was dropping off a vehicle? How would they return to the rest of us? A fox, a chicken, and a bag of corn want to cross a river...). It was now closing in on 4 pm and we still had a 45-mintue drive ahead of us. All for a 10-mile bike ride. Really?

I was ready to throw in the towel. The effort just didn't seem worth it. Hours of prep for maybe 50 minutes of riding? The return on investment just wasn't there.

I've definitely been experiencing a scarcity mindset when it comes to time. There are so many reasons - my Western, perfectionist culture, a season of life when time comes at a premium (4 kids, working full-time, finishing a big construction project this summer), and my own "take every moment captive" mentality... it's particularly easy for me to prioritize activities that provide obvious output or are the fastest way to tick an item off my list.=

It's not all bad, this prizing of effeciency. But it's not all good, either. It's easy for me to miss out on the joy of creating and the sheer pleasure of doing something for the doing's sake rather than primarily for the fulfillment of its output.

And so I especially treasured the feeling of the setting autumn sun on my face, the happy chatting with my girls as we coasted downhill, the fun of my husband buzzing ahead on his ebike to snag photos of us (and, also, to show off how fast he could go), the ravenous consumption of a 7:30 pm dinner at Wendy's.  I appreciated the reminder that sometimes the ratio of enjoyment-to-preparation isn't linear. It was an awfully good time, inefficient time investment and all.

It can be awfully challenging to get a selfie of 3 gals while riding, especially when 2 are on a tandem!

I love that you can see the tandem's shadow in this pic

Our hearty unicycle riders took the canyon both ways to add some extra miles to the outing!

Goshen Canyon may not be the most spectacular in Utah, but it's still pretty great

The home stretch! Our unicyclers definitely earned their Frostys.