I love to go camping. I love the whole idea of escaping the city and getting away from it all. No TVs, no computers and no telephones. Just peace and quiet for as long as you choose to stay. I only have two rules when I go camping and they are as follows:
1. NO BEARS, none whatsoever. None of this telling me they don't ever come around or only one is sighted a year. It doesn't matter, it's a rule and it stays that way. Chris broke this rule one time and I nearly killed him. There is only ONE exception to this rule and that is if it is The Berenstain Bears, because let's face it, they are cool.
2. There HAS to be a working toilet within walking distance of the campsite.
After that I am up for anything. I love the outdoors and I love the simplicity camping can bring into your life. Call me crazy, because I like a running toilet but at least I am not one of those girls who has to cart all her makeup and hair products with her when she goes camping. One of the reasons I look forward to camping is so I can leave all that stuff behind and not worry about it for a few days.
One of my favorite things about camping is the fire. I love to sit around the fire. I could sit there for hours and stare at the glowing orange of the fire and listening to the crackling of the wood. I love the peacefulness of it. The fire serves so many purposes. Obviously there is the whole keeping you warm thing, but aside from that how else would we survive an entire weekend on hot dogs and marshmallows if we didn't have a fire to cook them on? What about s'mores? They just wouldn't be possible without the fire. I remember camping in 1997 with some friends from high school and sending the boys to make us s'mores at all hours of the night and bring them to our tents. I also remember us all thinking it would be fun to go for a swim in the lake at like midnight--even though it wasn't even June yet. If you could only know how cold that water was. Me and the rest of the girls spent the rest of the night in front of the fire drying our hair. Perhaps the midnight swim wasn't the brightest of ideas, but thank God for the campfire to dry us off that night.
A lot of people who are hardcore campers make fun of me and tell me I am not a real "camper" because I refuse to camp in the mountains or in the middle of nowhere. I like to go to a campground where there are other people around, and where my only social interaction during the trip is not some bear or wild cat who attacks me as I pee behind a tree. That just does not sound like a good time to me--seriously--it doesn't. I have been afraid to camp in the mountains for as long as I can remember. There was no experience that I went through that made me scared. It is just a general thing. Big ass wild animals live out there, so why would I want to go? And yes I know, before you waste your time I will say it for you. Bear attacks are rare and as long as you keep your food away, etc you will be fine. I know this, but it still doesn't change my mind any. I get that it is rare for a bear to walk up to your tent, rip a hole in it and drag you off in the middle of the night. But attacks do happen, and my luck I will be that one person it happens to. Therefore, I figure if I leave them alone and stay away from their place of residence then I will be fine.
My favorite camping trip that I have ever been on is when Chris and I went camping on the Oregon Coast for a week. We stayed at Beverly Beach State Park which is almost right on the ocean. The Oregon Coast is among my favorite places and if you have ever been there or seen it in pictures you know why. Our campground was fairly big, yet quiet. We were happy to have found a site surrounded by trees and it was almost as if it was our own little place. In the evenings when it got dark, we would go for a walk along the beach and enjoy the views of the stars and listen to the crashing of the waves that we couldn't quite see anymore. All along the beach you could see bonfires and hear people talking and laughing. At our own campsite Chris would make us a fire and we would sit around for hours talking, drinking cheap beer and roasting marshmallows.
ully unloaded the car, and used the headlights to light the way as we set up the tent. After everything from the car was unloaded we decided we would lite a fire and jut relax for a few hours before we climbed into out tent for the night. Chris was in the tent changing when he called out to me to ask me to grab the lantern from the car. Now this lantern was not one of those new-fangled battery powered plastic ones, this thing was the real deal. Old school with fragile glass and even more fragile mantels. The kind that basically turn to ash at the slightest touch. There I was, lantern in hand walking back towards the picnic table. Well, I didn't make it that far. As I was walking back I completely forgot about the cement block in front of our parking spot, and I tripped over it and went flying through the air. I landed almost face first on the cement, scraping up my arms, my elbow and my hands. The lantern did an acrobatic show of its own, flying through the air and hitting the ground and bouncing back up off of it with the loudest bangs and clangs you could imagine. It was almost midnight--you could have heard a pin drop and there I was making all the racket I possibly could. Once Chris realized that for the most part I was okay he could not stop laughing, and after a while I saw the humor in it as well and could not stop laughing myself. Miraculously I was more damaged than the lantern was, not a scratch on it. Tell me, how does that happen? How do I fling a glass lantern through the air, have it come crashing down on the cement and somehow it doesn't break? Whatever the reason it certainly gave us a good laugh that night. Although I was feeling a little sore and stuff from my fall when I woke up the next morning.
Lets tal
k about raccoons for a minute. Now, people would have you believe that raccoons are cute and therefore they are harmless. Let me tell you people, this is just not true. Have you ever encountered a raccoon? They are frightening little creatures and the thought of their claws scratching
at my face gives me the shakes. Like at any campground--you will always have raccoons. We were very careful to keep all food and garbage away in the hopes they would stay away from our campsite. One morning we woke up after it had been pouring down rain all night to find muddy raccoon paw prints all over our picnic table cover and our camp kitchen. Little buggers had made quite the mess in search for a midnight snack. The next night they got pretty brave when we were sitting by the fire and they made their way towards the picnic table. Chris ended up scaring them off, but for a while they just stood there staring us down and hoping we would drop something they could snatch up.Chris and I have not been camping for a long time. We are both hoping this summer will offer some opportunities to camp in some of the beautiful places out here in New England. We have yet to take Belle camping. That should prove to be very interesting as she doesn't like things with four legs so much and I am not sure she realizes that she would have no chance against a raccoon.
If you hate camping because you have been and it just isn't for you then I respect that. But for those of you who have never been and say you don't like it you need to try it at least once. I have a feeling that you might just like it.



This is a post for the 

I knew right away I was not going to do any crazy diets because if you ask me I think they are all a load of crap. Even Weight Watchers and Jenny Craig was a turn off for me because I knew if I was determined enough I would lose the weight so why pay them to tell me the things I already know. I also have a very supportive husband who I knew would support me whichever way I decided to go with my weight loss. And so I told him my goals, he helped me set up a food journal on our computer through Excel so I would be able to keep track of all I was eating plus the calories. I just simply started making better choices. I limited my calorie intake to 1200-1500 per day and I lost 9 pounds the first week. And now just over 4 months later I have lost almost 40 pounds. I don't think I look like I have really lost weight but I definitely feel it. Obviously my clothes are fitting a little baggier these days. When I exercise I can go for longer and not get as tired as I used to. Everything is getting easier as each day passes and I feel good.
I guess I am "dieting" on some level. I just don't think of it as a diet. I still eat cake if I want to, or treat myself to a donut or whatever. The only difference now is that I make room for it in my calories each day if I want those things. I don't count fat calories or any of that. I simple count the calories in each serving of what I eat and that's that. I drink a lot of water and I drink diet pop. We have gotten in the habit of buying lots of snacks that I won't feel guilty about eating. Those 100 calorie packs are awesome and they come in all different kinds now. Chips a hoy, Oreo, Cheese Nips, Ritz mix, Chex Mix, Cheetos, Doritos and the list goes on. There are all sorts of low calorie or fat free ice cream bars. Jello.....I LOVE JELLO! A sugar free jello cup is only 10 calories. My new favorite thing to have in the evenings is 2 or 3 of them with a couple tablespoons of low fat cool whip (which was Chris's brilliant idea). YUMMY! Less than 100 calories, I love it. The minute I start denying myself the foods I love I know I will fall right off the wagon. So I make it work for me this way and I am happy with it and I am happy with my weight loss. At the end of each week I send my food journal to my mother in law 

And now for my 5
So Chris and I got ourselves all prettied up and away we went. We knew being a Saturday night that they would probably be a little on the busy side and we would have a bit of a wait. We figured it was not that big of a deal since we both were looking forward to a great supper. We arrived to find it WAY busier than we had anticipated but we decided the 45 minute wait was no biggie considering we had been waiting all day for it. Plus, on a Saturday night, you are pretty much going to have to wait no matter where you go. So we put our name on the list and headed into the bar. We were happy to find a couple of seats right away. Chris ordered a beer and I got a drink called The Blue Grotto which was a mix of Bacardi Rum, blue Curacao and pineapple juice. Can we just all take a minute to say YUMMY! We sat, talked, enjoyed our drinks and waited for our name to be called. We finished our drinks, paid our tab and waited for our name to be called. We moved from the seats we were in to let the next people along have a seat and waited for our name to be called. After an hour had gone by and our name still hadn't been called Chris went to have a look at where we where sitting on the list. The hostess apologized and it was really no biggie for us at the point considering how busy they were it could be worse. So we waited some more. Finally after another 20 minutes went by Chris went to talk with the hostess again only to find out that OUR table had been given to another "Chris, party of 2" and there we stood waiting for almost another half hour for a table. The hostess felt bad, she really did. She owned up to the fact she made a mistake in not getting the last name of the other Chris to make sure there would be no confusion. She assured as we would be compensated. Sure enough, the General Manager of the restaurant himself came and showed us to our table. He apologized over and over for the mix up and informed us that any appetizers and our first round of drinks would be on the house. SA-WEET!
Public displays of affection are something I am not exactly black or white about. For me it really depends on the situation. I am a little shy around other people when it comes to kissing Chris. For the most part I am a very private person and usually am a little shy about locking lips in public. Now don't get me wrong--a peck here and there is nothing, but chances are I am not about to full on make out with Chris while walking through the mall, sorry folks. Spending time on public transit offers me the opportunity to view all sorts of PDA's. Sometimes it makes me throw up in my mouth a little. I mean really, is it necessary for you to eat your girlfriends face while sitting next to me on the bus? I really don't think it is, and yet it happens anyways. I don't get it. Kissing is a beautiful thing when it is done in the right manner and in the right place. I wish more people realized that.


This is a post for the
Now that we had found the wound we decided a plan of action to try and have it heal properly and quickly. We got out the peroxide and cleaned it off nice and good. We had some gauze and bandages and medical tape, so we decided to try and jimmy rig our own bandage. This was a difficult thing to do because it was on the very tip of her tail, but we gave it a shot anyways. The next time we went out we came home to find our idea had not worked at all. The bandage was off and once again her tail was bleeding. I was getting frustrated thinking she was doing it on purpose (making her tail bleed that is), and concerned for how the heck we were supposed to get this fixed. We made an appointment for her the next day to go and see the vet. He was quick to assure me that she was probably not chewing on her own tail and that it was more likely what we thought all along--that she was reopening the wound with each whip of her tail. He also pointed out that if you put a bandage on a dog and they can reach it they will bite it off. Go figure! 
