#i also caught several frogs on this hike!

[alchemiccolored]

TINY GUYS. absolutely the smallest snakes i have handled. brown snakes babies? i know brown snakes are small, but these two were right next to each other so i believe they're from the same clutch. i love how differently their patterns are expressed!

[artzychic27]

The Artist Family? (new movie)

A month has passed since Marc and Nathaniel met and fell in love at age fourteen, now they’re dating

To celebrate their one month anniversary, they decide to visit one of the most romantic spots ever- The burned-down forest they met in- Only to run into some trouble

The mobs from their previous homes have still been looking for them since the incidents and were finally able to track them down

The couple manage to escape the angry mob with the help of Marc’s spiders and a friendly severed hand who cause a distraction

So they can get away quicker, That drives them in an old hearse he found in a graveyard

Marc: Mi querido, why must hoards of angry villagers follow us everywhere?

Nathaniel: *Kissing Marc’s hand* Meyn ziskeyt, I swear to you, we will find someplace so dark, so sinister, so dastardly that no one in their right mind would be caught dead in!

*They arrive in Paris*

Nathaniel: Huh. I see it’s changed over the last few centuries. And I’m noticing a lack of guillotines.

As they lament about how they can’t keep running for the rest of their lives, That, who was recklessly driving, runs over something in the middle of the road, right near an old funeral home shrouded by fog and cut off from the rest of the city

Marc/Nathaniel: *Excitedly* We hit something!

They rush to see who or what they’ve hit, and see that the figure is a blonde, pale young man who seems to have most of his organs missing

They realize that the person they ran over is Félix Culpa, a young man who died centuries ago, but was never given a funeral because the mortician prepping him got the plague. He regains consciousness and goes to attack the two, but Nathaniel just hands him their bags

Nathaniel: Thanks, man. Hey, you mind showing us around the place?

And that’s how Félix became their butler

When they arrive at the old funeral home, they’re given a very warm welcome.

Spirit of the House: GET OUT!

Marc: ... It’s hideous.

Nathaniel: It’s horrible...

Marc/Nathaniel: It’s home.

Weeks goes by, and more people begin to occupy the home, making amazing first impressions

Marinette and Alix actually snuck in and have been living in the walls for a short period of time until Félix found them

Marc found Rose resting in one of the open graves in the backyard

And Juleka Samara-crawled out of the swamp with her hair covering her face

The six of them share their backgrounds, sympathize with each other about how they were run out of their homes, and make the decision to change their last names to Artist

Now they’re sixteen while Alix is still fifteen

Meanwhile, down in Paris, Gabriel Agreste is taking the fashion world by storm, and his clothing (All basic and dull) is a big hit in Paris (For reasons no one understands but they won’t say anything for fear of not fitting in)

His son, Adrien Agreste goes for a bike ride through the woods with his two friends, Nino and Alya, where they come across the gate that separates outsiders from the Artists’ home

They’re immediately scared away when Marinette opens the creaking gate that sounds like the end of the world when opened

Also, Alix’s sinister sixteen is coming up in a few weeks, and part of the celebration is a swordfight, which she is nowhere near ready for

Nathaniel: Alix, you need to practice. It’s the day your family and friends judge you and pass judgement on your worth as a human being!... It reminds me of Hanukkah.

During one dinner, Marinette asks a question that shocks everyone

Marinette: Do you guys think things beyond the gate have changed?

Juleka: ... What?

Marinette: It’s been years, surely things must be different now. Earlier today, I swore I heard people.

Marc: Outside is forbidden.

Marinette: But-

Marc: Forbidden!

Back in the city, Gabriel is anticipating the arrival of tourists to buy his new line of clothing which he calls, Conformist

While filming a commercial, a red balloon floats astray and makes its way towards the Artists’ home, which Marinette finds as she’s “helping” Alix prepare for the Swordfight

Alix: Why are you helping me?

Marinette: Because. You are like my sister... And... I... Love... You...

Alix: ... You seem trustworthy.

Big mistake

Marinette: *Walks inside with the balloon* Good news, Alix is gone.

Marc: *Holding a sword to Nathaniel’s neck* Mari, go dig up Alix.

Marinette: You and Nathaniel are once again weakening this generation.

Nathaniel: *Points to balloon* Mari, where did you get that?

Marinette: I’m not sure.

Marc: Strange. There’s usually a murderous clown attached to the other end of these.

Juleka: *Gasp!* And what is this?! *Plucks a piece of pink confetti off of Marinette’s shoulder*

Nathaniel: Smells like cotton candy. *Off their confused looks* I was young and stupid, alright?

The Artists go outside where they find rainbow confetti raining down, and the fog that covers their home is lifting up, revealing to them the town

Much to Marc’s protests, Nathaniel suggests they go see the place for themselves

Marinette: This day is becoming most miraculously disruptive.

While filming another commercial, the Artist Family’s house is in the camera’s shot, and Gabriel passes out the second he sees it

*Somewhere else* Nino: ... I feel an overwhelming sense of... Joy.

The Artists arrive in their hearse, and immediately capture the attention of the other Parisians. They’re given strange looks wherever they go, and sometimes people run away screaming

No one has run them out with pitchforks yet. Yay!

Alix: Guys! *Pulls a tire off of a police car* They’re just giving these away!

Juleka: Alix, mind your manners, people might want tires, too.

After getting coffee grounds, the Artists come across Adrien, Alya, Nino, Chloé, and Lila in the park, prancing around in pink and blue outfits and singing about being conformists

Rose: Wow... That is absolutely horrible!

Marinette: ... *Dumps coffee grounds* I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. However, that blonde boy... Intrigues me

And it seems the feeling is mutual when Adrien steals glances at the gothic girl with braids

Rose: ... Yeah, I’m done with this song. *She hikes up the hem of her robe, releasing hundreds of bats that scare off the crowd* Done and done!

Done with these people, Marc wants to leave, Nathaniel insists that things have changed, but his boyfriend is still reluctant... Cue Gabriel

He insists on hiring interior decorators to fix up the Artists home (So tourists aren’t scared off) Marc, with some urging from Nathaniel allows him to do so.

Marinette: That man seems deranged. His face reminds me of a death mask.

*Somewhere else* Nino: In the future... I will have a new friend. Blue hair. Braids.

Back at the Artists Home, Nathaniel, Juleka, and Rose help Alix prepare for her Swordfight

Rose: Of all the Sinister Sixteens I’ve seen, Nathaniel’s was the stuff of legends.

Juleka: So no pressure!

Gabriel, Adrien, the design crew, and the news crew arrive, ready to remove the gloom and macabre form the Artists’ home

Félix: *Answers the door* Youuuuuu raaaaaanng?

Adrien: *Calling Alya and Nino* Hey, so I’m going into the creepy mansion. If I don’t come back, I’m dead... I love you too, Nino... Yes, Alya, I know he’s your boyfriend.

Much to his relief, Adrien is left outside and goes around back to explore

Gabriel: I do hope this isn’t a bad time.

Nathaniel: The worst!... Do come in.

Gabriel spends most of the time making light criticisms and jabs at the decor, the Artists themselves, their clothes, and Marc’s spiders (Which he considers the greatest insult)

Meanwhile in the backyard, Adrien is nearly killed by a crossbow. To his horror and awe, he finds the shooter: Marinette in all of her dark glory

Immediately, he develops a small crush on her. She’s not like the other girls at school who constantly cling to and flirt with him because of his father’s wealth

He tries his hand at impressing her by shooting an arrow, but accidentally shoots Rose, which actually does impress Marinette

Adrien: So, why haven’t I seen you and your siblings at school?

Marinette: We’re coven-schooled. But, blondie, do tell... *Leans in close so she can hear Adrien’s rapid heartbeat* Can anyone attend your school?

Gabriel and his crew leave, having made no renovations to the Artists’ home. And when Nathaniel explains that family and friends will be coming over for Alix’s Sinister Sixteen, that just motivates the designer even more

Down in Gabriel’s secret lair, he spies on the Parisians through a social media app where he fills the comments section with rumors about the Artists, saying they’re anarchists and breed spiders... Okay, so they’re not all rumors

*The Next Day* Nathaniel: Monochrome, I know the man is an eccentric, but- *Marinette appears behind him* Aah!

Marc: Mari, you know Nathaniel scares easily. Practice your lurking on someone else. *Marinette appears behind him* Better. Now what’s on your mind?

Marinette explains that she wants to atener school, much to Marc’s horror and Nathaniel’s excitement. She needs to torment more kids her own age.

Marc doesn’t want her to go, worried she might fall under the influence of the... Conformists, but Nathaniel somehow convinced him

Marinette walking into school: Ah, so these are the gates of hell.

Adrien, while being crowded by girls he doesn’t even like (Especially Lila and Chloé) becomes awestruck when he sees Marinette walking in. She looks like a beautiful demon queen

Lila and Chloé see this and try to intimidate her, but this is what Marinette says,

Marinette: Listen you future plastic surgery disasters, I’m not locked in here with either of you. You and your outdated, distasteful “outfits” are locked in here with me. And don’t you forget it.

Alya just might dump Nino so she can ask this girl out. Polyamory works too. / Adrien: Back of the line.

Mendelive’s biology class: They’re dissecting frogs.

Adrien: Aw, I feel bad for doing this.

Marinette: Relax. Rose showed me how to do this hundreds of times. *Cue Frankenstein equipment* FLIP THE SWITCH! *Adrien flips the switch and electrocutes all of the frogs* LIVE! LIVE MY CREATURE!

The frogs come to life and attack Lila and Chloé. Karma at its finest. Alya and Nino are impressed by her more than ever

Alya: It is an honor and a privilege to watch you work, spooky girl.

Back at the Artists’ Home, it’s game night! They’re playing the game of Death, but Marc isn’t focused. It’s late and he’s wondering where Marinette is

Finally, she arrives, but much to Marc’s horror, she has a Ladybug hair clip! He’s in so much shock that his face flushes red and a bat has to drink his blood

Marc: What. Is. That?

Marinette: Adrien calls it a “Pop of color” says it brings out my... Smile.

Marc: You don’t have a smile.

In order to see what’s going on with his sister/friend, Marc suggests they do ‘Tea & Seance’ like old times... Only she bails to hang out with Adrien, and they give each other makeovers as acts of rebellion

Meanwhile, Alix is upset because she still can’t get the hang of sword fighting and Nathaniel has been working so hard to help her

Marinette returns from her hangout with Adrien, almost making Marc faint when she shows up wearing pink and her hair in pigtails.

Marc: Okay, this is where I sever the line! You are not going back to that school!

Marinette: *Gives him the evil eye before leaving* You can’t tell me what to do.

Juleka: Dear Hades, that is some evil eye.

Horrified by Adrien’s new gothic look and attitude, Gabriel spreads more rumors about the Artists

Frustrated by the lack of support from her family/friends, Marinette runs away and goes to stay with Adrien

Alix: I always knew it would end up like this. Just didn’t know when.

Marinette: Farewell, Alix! I will never forget you, but I’ll try.

The next morning, Marinette, Alya, and Nino are helping Adrien look for his phone, which Gabriel his hidden punishment for his new look

While looking, they stumble across Gabriel’s lair and discover he’s been spying on everyone in Paris. Gabriel discovers them snooping and locks them in Adrien’s room while he goes to greet the tourists... And some unexpected guests

Nathalie: *Dials Gabriel* Gabriel, it’s an emergency. They’re here! The Artist Family!

The Artists more... Eccentric family members (Gina Dupain, Uncle Wang, Master Fu, Luka, Fei, Jagged, Penny, and the art teacher for example) have arrived to attend Alix’s sinister sixteen.

Things are going well so far. Juleka reunites with Luka, Fei battles Gina to the death, but Marinette still hasn’t arrived, so they do the sword fight without her... Which Alix fails.

As Nathaniel consoles her, a cannonball shoots through the wall. Gabriel somehow got a catapult for the mob to use

Marc: It’s Gabriel. He’s turned the town into a mob.

Juleka: I oddly admire his determination.

While the mob fires more cannonballs and destroy the house, Alix tosses her sword and grabs her explosives, successfully protecting her family... Until a cannonball blocks their only exit and she runs out of ammo

Just as the ceiling begins to fall and it seems like the end, Marinette, Adrien, Alya, and Nino come in just in time and save them all thanks to the possessed tree

She and Marc reconcile

Marc: I’m so glad you came back.

Marinette: Of course. There was no way you all could survive without me. You’re like weak kittens.

The Parisians begin having regrets about attacking the Artists (Mainly cuz they almost killed a bunch of kids), but this is interrupted by Gabriel

Gabriel: I will relish hounding you all until that nuclear waste dump you call is house is destroyed with you all in it!

Juleka: Oh, you are just begging to be dragged down to hell, aren’t you, Gabriel?

Marinette: And this family will never run from the likes of you again. *Her death glare stuns Gabriel*

Nino: Damn, I gotta learn how to do that.

Adrien finally stands up to his father and exposes how he’s been spying on everyone in the city while Alya live streams everything. Gabriel is now ruined

Months later, the Artists’ Home has been rebuilt by the guilty Parisians who learn to accept their new, weird neighbors. Also, the Spirit of the House has returned

Adrien and Marinette start dating while Alya and Nino share a mutual pining for the girl

[of-wrens-and-whirlwinds-blog]

Hike

Commission for the grand @auspiciousagape !!! So sorry this took so long, love! I hope you like it!

Commission info is in my about page!

~

Jayson adjusted the basket slung over his shoulder restlessly. Why had he agreed to this again?

Because Marcus hadn’t been allowed to visit in a few weeks and Jayson really wanted to see him. To feel that two-tone warmth when they stood close together.

Jayson rubbed the back of his neck and bit his lip. He really had to get these feelings under control.  What if he let them slip while they were out? No, they would not slip out. He would not let them.

“Nervous?” Rosalia asked slyly, making Jayson jump. She moved to stand beside him and grinned as he glared at her. “Oh, don’t act so annoyed. He’ll be here.”

“I know he will,” Jayson replied, still scowling a little. “He always is.”

Rosalia shot him another sly look, but said nothing.

Soon after that, Jayson’s ears pricked as he caught the sound of boots thumping up the drive. He looked and grinned, heart lifting, when he saw Marcus running towards them. Rosalia patted Jayson’s arm and said sweetly, “I need to get back to work. Have fun, Jayson.”

“Uh-huh,” he said absently. “Thanks, Rosa.”

She snickered and went back inside of the House.

Jayson took three steps forward and then Marcus slammed into him, hugging tightly. Jayson laughed and hugged back, basking in the warmth that shivered through his empathy whenever Marcus was near. “You’re not late, no need to run,” Jayson told him, still grinning.

“I wanted to be early,” Marcus replied, muffled in Jayson’s shoulder, before releasing Jayson from his fierce embrace. He grinned too, and Jayson almost told him that he looked adorable with his hair all mussed and his eyes bright and his cheeks flushed. “The Seneschal was being dramatic again, though, so I had to run.”

Jayson shook his head and tweaked Marcus’s nose. “You’re not stern enough,” he teased. “Practice a foreboding frown and a tone of disapproval.”

Marcus rolled his eyes, but he was smiling still. “Whatever. When are we going?”

“Right now, if you want,” Jayson replied, picking up the second basket and holding it out to Marcus. “It won’t take long to get there, but we have a lot of work to do.”

~

Normally, Jayson would have asked one of the other Healers to come with him. Kurreb was always easier with a companion, and it helped build connection. But all of his friends and the other Healers were doing other things, and so Rosalia had decided to pester Jayson into asking Marcus to come.

The joke was on her, Jayson thought grimly, as he and Marcus approached Mirus Forest. Nothing would make him confess to Marcus. Nothing short of truth serum, and that was illegal, anyway. And so, they were safe.

That is, they were until Jayson made the mistake of looking at Marcus when they entered the cool shade of Mirus and the fairy-lamp mushrooms lit up in alarm. Marcus gasped, his face lighting up, ears pricked, tail high. “They’re beautiful,” he whispered.

Jayson swallowed hard as warmth built in his chest. “Yes,” he replied, his gaze on Marcus’s face, “They are.”

The first ten minutes were spent showing Marcus the herbs and plants that needed to be picked in large quantities, and also the copycats that should be avoided completely. Then they set off down the path that had not been used recently, and started gathering.

Most herbs had been tamed into patches along the myriad paths, as were bushes, vines, mosses, flowers, and slender trees whose leaves were a very effective headache cure when made into tea, though they tasted horrible. But there were some that were too delicate to move into easier reach, and these were the ones Jayson looked out for. He knew roughly where they all were, he’d been on Kurreb plenty of times; but plants, being what they are, don’t follow people rules. The patches shifted, or shrunk, or grew, or split up. Jayson left the path often to try and find the shy little herbs he needed.

Marcus filled a third of his basket quickly, tying each bundle together neatly with string and stacking them in a grid pattern. He also hummed, or imitated birds, and Jayson had to smile. Marcus’s eyes were wide, his expression delighted and awed as he took in the wonders of Mirus; flowers that shifted through the rainbow every time their petals were ruffled, ponds of strange colors with vibrant algae and cranky blue frogs, stones that vibrated gently and gave off heat. Every time he heard an interesting bird call, he did his best to replicate it. He looked so happy, in his jeans and t-shirt, with dirt and sap all over his hands and knees.

Jayson wanted to help him stay happy. He wanted Marcus to never lose this day of beauty and freedom. Brown-toned love shivered through him.

When they reached the river that flowed through the forest, around the middle of the morning, Jayson kicked off his shoes, rolled up his pant legs, and told Marcus, “The water here isn’t magic, really, but it is nice on the feet after walking. Come on!”

Marcus immediately took off his own shoes and socks and rolled up his pants, and they both leapt into the river, yelping at the cold. Fish scattered and a grumpy turtle swam to the other shore.

Jayson sat on a large rock near the bank and hummed happily, closing his eyes and tilting his head up to feel the sunshine on his face. Was there anything more peaceful than sitting in the sun by flowing water? Well, other than stargazing in the hammock with Marcus.

That sunshine-yellow love touched his empathy, and then the brown love, the color of perfectly-brewed honey cough syrup, rose too. He smiled and opened his eyes, and when he looked at Marcus again, his friend was bent over, peering intently at the rocks in the riverbed. He was blushing faintly.

“Hey, what are those little crab things?” Marcus asked, pointing.

“Crab things?” Jayson stood, walked over, and also bent to look. “Oh! Those are hermit--AUGH!”

Marcus laughed far too gleefully as Jayson fell into the water and came up spluttering. “You are way too easy to trick!” Marcus exclaimed, grinning as Jayson growled and rubbed water out of his eyes. “It’s been years and you still fall for ‘what’s this’!”

Jayson reached up, grabbed Marcus’s shirt hem, and yanked hard.

Marcus shrieked as he plunged into the water with Jayson, but when he sat up he still laughed. Jayson had to smile back, and slicked the water out of Marcus’s silky hair.

“You’re an ass,” Jayson chuckled, then stood and helped Marcus up. “Alright, we’re both soaked. Let’s get back to work.”

Marcus sighed dramatically but followed him out of the river.

Their dunkings seemed to wash away any leftover quietness. Marcus complained about the courtiers and the military between bird calls; Jayson grumbled about the newest trainees, a pair of twelve-year-old twins who thought they knew more than the master Healers because their parents were the court Healers in another country. Marcus taught Jayson to whistle like a robin; Jayson taught Marcus how to properly ask the fireberry vines for a harvest. They ate the spicy delicacies as they walked.

At noon, they sat beneath a huge oak tree covered in sweetheart ivy, and ate the sandwiches Jayson had brought.

“I just don’t understand,” Marcus muttered, nibbling a piece of ham. “My uncle says that we need to strengthen the army, but it’s already as strong as we need. He acts like we’re going to war at any minute. The delegates and ambassadors are nervous around him, now, and he doesn’t seem to notice.”

Jayson shrugged as he swallowed a bite of sandwich. “Maybe he wants attention,” he offered. “I’ve known a few people like that.”

Marcus snorted, but sighed and leaned on Jayson lightly. Jayson’s heart turned over. “Maybe. Jay?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I come with you next time you do this?”

Jayson smiled and resisted the urge to kiss Marcus’s ear. “Yes, of course.”

~

Late afternoon sun was slanting through the trees, touching everything with gold and yellow. The forest was alive with birds, squirrels, ground mammals, chiming bluebells--and the laughter of two teenagers in the river.

“No, no, that isn’t a waltz!” Marcus cried, apparently unable to stop giggling, as Jayson deliberately messed up the figures. “You’re doing that on purpose!”

“Not at all, sire,” Jayson replied primly, trying to ignore the shivers of excitement in his chest from the touch of Marcus’s hands and the closeness of him, as Marcus attempted to teach Jayson to dance. “I am simply following my heart. Hup!” He lifted Marcus by the waist and spun them both around, cackling as Marcus whooped and water flew off of them both in a glittering whirl.

They had finished harvesting earlier than Jayson had expected, and were now just being silly and wasting time because they didn’t want to go home. It was nice. Jayson didn’t feel like he had to be a miniature adult out here, with just Marcus and time slow and sweet as honey. He felt more like himself.

Marcus buried his face in Jayson’s shoulder when he was set down and continued giggling for a few moments. Jayson stood still, his hands still on Marcus’s waist, breathing a little harder with exertion, and had the thought that, if he put his hand under Marcus’s chin and tipped his face upwards, he was at just the right distance for a kiss. He was not ashamed or alarmed by that thought; he simply held it, and wondered idly what Marcus would taste like. Sweet water from the river; the mint that Jayson had found that they had both promptly rolled in; the fireberries from earlier. He smiled to himself, thinking of how nice it would feel to kiss Marcus.

Marcus had stopped giggling, and was now just standing quietly, pressed against Jayson. The water rushing around their legs felt just as good as the sun on their necks and arms and faces. Jayson’s empathy picked up several emotions that he sensed were coming from Marcus: pink contentment, silver happiness, blue calm. It was lovely to just exist, in a place where no one would judge, hurt, or accuse them. 

Jayson closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Marcus still smelled like warm earth and honey.

“Should we head back?” Marcus asked, very softly.

“We don’t have to,” Jayson murmured. “We can stay for a little longer.”

Marcus sighed and slid his arms around Jayson’s neck. “That would be nice,” he said.

[mimiplaysgames]

Beloved Memories, in Notes (Vol. VII)

Pairing: Aqua/Terra Rating: T (for horror elements) Word Count: 11,074

Summary: His mission was to be her friend, but she didn’t want any. Terra and Aqua meet. Terra is 9, Aqua is 8.

Read on AO3

A/N: This chapter was always going to be the angsty one of this collection (kind of, it ends well). This specific story is honestly my favorite in this collection, and I’m so excited to move on with it. I’m very proud of the ending to this tale, and I just want to be able to cover it lmao.

****

A Tale of Stars, Pt. 2

It was hot, and it sucked.

There was still hay sticking to Terra's arms after he brushed them all off, his sweat just as sticky as the humidity that clinched him. The Master was in just as much of a grumpy mood.

Cows always made Terra laugh though, and Abigail's moos were a welcome cheer for a morning that could either go really well or really badly. Terra needed to be on his best behavior, for this was his very first mission - and he barely even started real Keyblade training.

He already had a to-do list to make him successful. The first step (and the most important): to be Aqua's friend.

But this was also the hardest.

Aqua was in the backyard, pumping water into a pail out of an iron press, before dragging it back to the Widow Tweed's quaint farmhouse, with Tod the fox tailing her feet closely. He noticed that she barely gave either of them the courtesy of a glance when they strolled out of Abigail's barn.

An owl stood at a tree watching them, and Terra didn't know which was weirder: that an owl was out at dawn, or that it enjoyed the company of a sparrow and a woodpecker.

Mrs. Tweed handed them their breakfast (plain old sausage with a sprinkle of salt), and Terra only finished half when Aqua appeared again, hair in classic long pigtails as usual, with Tod following her like he was her best friend. She straggled toward the woods in a daze that made her seem more like a zombie than anything, as if this was the most basic routine for the most basic day and she didn't know what else there was to do.

"You should join her," he heard the Master say.

Terra chewed on his meat with spite. "She doesn't like me."

"She does not know you as a person."

"Still hates me."

"Then she'd be the fool," Eraqus said with confidence. "To pass judgment on mere glance would say much about her and nothing of you… You still have your responsibilities, however, so you must try."

Terra stopped a piece from reaching his mouth, his fingers grasped tightly around his fork. "What if she says no?"

"Then you respect her decision."

A more frightening possibility crept into his mind. "What if she says yes?"

"Then you join her." Like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Terra stuffed as much sausage into his mouth until his cheeks almost burst because he hated all the answers and pouted at his Master. It didn't work.

"Continue with that and your cheeks will sag," the Master grinned.

The image of long flabby cheeks terrified him, so brave Terra faced his fears, swallowed all the sausage at once (which hurt), and raced over before she disappeared into the trees. This was still a mission, and he was still being tested.

"Aqua," he panted, and she at least treated him with the decency of acknowledging his presence. "Are you going out to play?"

"Yeah," she said lowly. Honestly, she looked super-exhausted, despite that it was morning.

"Can I join you?"

She turned and left him behind. "Sure."

Now what was Terra supposed to do? Follow, he supposed.

Aqua walked with the grace of someone who memorized where all the uplifted tree roots would snag her, barely putting any thought of where to step her feet while Terra took an extra second or two just to make sure he wouldn't trip. Tod led the way, excitedly rushing onward only to have to come back because they were going too slow for him.

They walked in silence - Terra didn't know what to talk about.

Toys - does she still have any? Pets - I don't know a thing about them, much less foxes. School - well, we obviously don't take the same classes, and I don't study math, so we can't even talk about something we hate.

Her silence sucked just as much as the heat, and why, oh why did Terra have to deal with this?

They reached a pond, where a creek ran the end of its trail into its reservoir, and willow trees overlooking the surface and dragonflies dancing on longrass.

"Do you want to skip rocks?" Terra asked. "It's really fun."

She sat on a log, bringing her knees to her chin and saying nothing in return.

Tod went ahead and buried his nose in the crooks of pebbles that littered the ground, sometimes yipping at something he found, which were mostly uninteresting - frogs, maybe.

"It's really hot," Terra said, and he didn't know if she agreed - she said nothing.

"Maybe we can swim?" he asked, and immediately blushed. Normally he'd strip to his shorts but he probably shouldn't be asking girls to take off their clothes to go swimming with him.

Again, she said nothing, her eyes drifting off into some made-up land. Terra had never seen a child, even at the orphanage, who looked this horrible.

The adults running the orphanage always said that having parents was the best thing that could ever happen, and that each child could have a pair as long as they behaved well. Terra never really wondered if having them (or losing them) would hurt just as much, too.

It was suddenly too quiet. Tod stopped his hustling of innocent forest insects, and slumped his shoulders while he waited.

He and Aqua looked the same: abandoned.

Finally, she spoke. "Copper is late."

"The hounddog?"

"He always comes," she said with a tighter grip around her knees, like she was remembering a punishment.

Copper was late and Tod was sad about it, too. That was what hurt them: missing someone.

Aqua huffed, willing whatever cloudy thoughts that haunted her to go away and stood up with her head held high, marching deeper into the forest. If Terra didn't know any better, he'd say that she was ready to punch somebody.

He and Tod followed, and it turned out that they hiked somewhere uphill, where they eventually reached a rundown farm within several acres of empty land, half-neglected and half-loved.

She gasped - Copper was there, a rope tied around his neck for a leash, where the weight of an empty barrel kept him grounded. Nearby, a much, much bigger gray dog snuggled in his own barrel and snored.

The children sneaked up to the wooden fence that marked the beginning of the forest and the end of this farm's territory. Aqua held Tod closely, quieting his fidgeting and stopping him from racing across to the dogs.

"Mr. Slade is so mean," she whispered with disdain. "He's always trying to keep Copper and Tod apart. Who would do such a thing?"

It was still Terra's opinion that a fox and a hound were strange friends indeed considering their nature.

Maybe he expected Aqua to know better, and yet here she was on the verge of going back to hiding in her mind.

Well, his mission was to be her friend, and he read in books in that friends made each other happy. If she wanted Tod and Copper to play together, as weird as that was, then he was going to do just that.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, Tod squirming more in her arms.

Terra had lifted one leg in between the logs barring up the fence, and ducked under to get to the other side. "I'm getting Copper, what does it look like?"

"Chief will hear you."

If she was talking about the snoring dog, then he didn't know what she was so worried about. Terra was training to be a Keyblade Master, after all, what was a mangey old mutt going to do?

"I can sneak."

"You're going to get in trouble," she barked like a mean teacher.

"No, I won't."

"Yes, you will."

He liked her less when she talked.

"Calm down." He dismissed her with a wave and crept, keeping his body close to the ground as he waddled over, the grass patches taller than him. This farm really needed a lawnmower.

Aqua huddled behind a bush, watching him closely and mumbling small prayers to herself as she kept a firm hand around Tod's snout. She worried too much.

Terra, on the other hand, crawled confidently - he was more afraid of Mr. Slade catching him in the act than of an old, tired dog sniffing him out.

He chose to do this for her, and was going to see it through.

Copper was very smart and perceptive, understanding the consequences of being caught by a large quadruped such as Chief, so he shied away from Terra at first.

Of course, Copper was still a young puppy, and the moment Terra followed through on some unspoken promise of releasing him from his prison, he yipped.

"Shhh," Terra said, ever so gently holding Copper's snout. He held his breath for a few seconds, Chief wiggling and kicking his feet from the sudden noise -

Only to go back to sleep.

Terra was more relieved than he wanted to admit. "Don't you wanna play with your friend?" he whispered, and started to head back to Aqua and Tod with the puppy riding in his arms.

But then Chief finally got a whiff, and finally started barking.

Chief spit, Chief noticed exactly who was in Terra's arms, and when he did, Chief lunged with a loud growl. Terra's heart jumped straight up into his throat at the sight of such carnivores, and he swallowed it back into place.

Luck smiled on him though, since Terra only managed to escape because Chief, too, was leashed.

Aqua immediately bolted back into the thicket, with Terra and a pup in his arms following closely, the bark of an angry, old man inching closer, throwing a gunshot for a warning but even then, that faded into the background, too.

*****

Tod and Copper reuniting turned Aqua into a different person - though she was still stuffy, ungrateful at worst, as she yapped about how they were teaching these little innocent animals terrible lessons that could get them into trouble later on, and wasn't this considered dognapping, blah blah blah.

(Honestly, it wasn't dognapping if they were going to return Copper, right?)

But - and that was a huge but - Aqua was at least more willing to talk, more brave to look him in the eye when she did (he realized she had very large, bright eyes, making it hard not to stare).

Who knew that all he had to do was steal someone's pet to open her up?

He could have snarked back by saying that she wasn't a perfect princess either since she was now happy that Tod and Copper were together, but he kept his mouth shut.

She did make some good points, after all. If the Master ever found out what he did, he'd fail the mission.

But... if he didn't do this for her, then she would definitely refuse to be his friend, and that meant he failed, too.

Ugh, Mr. Slade shouldn't have been a jerk in the first place because he made Terra's life miserable (and everyone else's included).

As Tod and Copper rolled in the dirt, Terra kicked a rock and said, "No one should know."

She fiddled with her apron, her dress sprawled over the log they sat on. "Okay. I won't tell a soul."

The worst feeling was keeping this from the Master, and Terra never expected this would ever happen in his entire life.

Was it worth it?

He didn't know. He knew he felt content when Copper approached him with a wagging tail, when the pup crawled onto his lap for a short snooze, alongside his best friend Tod, who helped himself to Aqua's lap.

They looked peaceful, like they had been given a second chance at something important to them. Terra felt like he was a hero, which was always what he wanted to be… and the Master did always say to do what was his heart told him was right.

So would he really get into that much trouble if Terra argued that this was the right thing to do?

Maybe.

That uncertainty was too much of a risk, and Terra didn't know how to feel.

It suddenly dawned on him - this was his first secret that he shared with someone else. Anyone else in his entire nine-year-life!

Wait, it wasn't like they actually promised to keep it to themselves - they merely agreed to never speak about it. She gave him a simple nod when she complied, afraid of the consequences that would chase her if it ever got out. It was not a pinky-squeeze, not a handspit, or a blood oath.

He understood perfectly. This was about survival, not friendship.

*****

By evening, Mr. Slade blamed Tod for the dognapping - he didn't actually see the fox though, and therefore had no basis for his arguments.

The Master's presence was imposing enough to shut it all down. Eraqus was so much taller than Amos Slade that a shotgun to the chest didn't really diminish how intimidating he was, and since everyone thought of him as an investigator, his dismissal of the Case of the Missing Puppy was final.

By morning, it was time for Aqua to go back to school, and Eraqus offered to take her (for protection protocol).

The three of them traversed twisted, muddy backroads to the town square, since the main road would take her right by her destroyed house and it was best to avoid all of that for now. It would have been a pretty stroll, tucked away in the forest trees with the sun shining through the canopies, if it wasn't for the heat. Terra couldn't wait to leave this world and never come back.

It didn't help that Aqua wasn't very receptive to Eraqus trying to open conversations with her, and it left Terra feeling like he had to start back at square one all over again. It was a wonder how the Master didn't feel so personally attacked by her silence.

Being such a small world where everyone knew everything, the people in town cast looks on Aqua as they walked by, whispering gossip and identifiers as they pointed to the girl whose parents were brutally murdered in a town where such things never happened.

When they approached the schoolhouse, children gathered in the windows to look down on her as she crept closer to the entrance, and while Terra couldn't hear what they were saying, they were absolutely riled up like she was a spectacle at a zoo. It was rude.

Since Terra couldn't join her because he wasn't a student, Eraqus took him to the public library - a small wooden thing that was pathetic in comparison to the castle's massive archive.

Eraqus left him behind so Terra wouldn't be in danger, since he was going straight to the outskirts of the town to investigate the last sightings of the demon wrecking this town apart, appearing as a man seemingly named Ardyn.

The Master had only one request: "Let us not kidnap any more puppies today, shall we?"

Terra feigned innocence. "Sir?" When that didn't work, he continued, "Yes, sir."

Equipped with only one ceiling fan for reprieve (it barely worked to keep him cool), Terra busied himself to a number of random books; a good Keyblade wielder spent his time studying about the world he was investigating, as it helped him fit in better.

He tried really hard to be quiet - really, he did. He was the only one there aside from the librarian, a young woman wearing a bun and glasses that made her look older. But he did a spectacular job at being noisy even though it wasn't his fault; the wooden floorboards under him just wouldn't stop squeaking with every step he took.

It turned out that Terra didn't have to be so respectful with keeping up the integrity of the library - a young guy marched into the library, his muddy boots stomping like crackling whips onto the wood beneath.

Immediately, he and the librarian hit it off like they were flirting, and Terra wondered why he ever tried so hard being quiet.

Much of the talk was boring - news of someone's married cousin, and whether she had time Saturday night to go look at some horses… Hopefully she realized that this guy chatting her up was the lamest of the lame and she wouldn't agree to it.

She dodged his question entirely by changing the subject, acting like she didn't hear him. This was where it got interesting - she brought up the subject of the murderer, and asked the guy if he heard anything new.

"Yer tellin' me you didn' hear?" he gargled. His teeth were yellow. "They found the preacher's daughter."

The librarian hesitated. "Is she…?"

He shook his head. "All mangled up by the river. Funny thing is the fog's still rollin' when it shouldn'." He wasn't creeped out about the death, but acted like he was important enough to deliver such news. "Word is she was covered in oil when they found her."

The librarian at least had the decency to be upset. "The poor thing. Who found her?"

"That investigator comin' from the city." They were talking about the Master. Terra pretended to read, with one stack of finished books to his left, and a dwindling shorter stack of unread ones to his right, but he inched a little closer to listen more. The man continued, "If he hadn' found her, she'd continue ter sit there and rot."

Images of the Master finding a dead body burned in Terra's mind. Eraqus was strong, always had been - a hero had adopted Terra the day they met. But suddenly it scared him to think about the Master following Ardyn's trail.

"Makes me wonder," the man continued, his finger lifted in the air as if to make a point, "if Jim Bob'll get his fair share."

"Jim Bob, was that the one who beat his horses?"

"Is that what you 'eard?" He pulled on his suspenders. "Ha! I 'eard he poisoned 'em."

"Well, I don't believe any of it. Jim Bob loves his horses, I figured that nastiness was the work of that creeper."

"Did ya hear? Jim Bob claims the creeper doin' all of this lives in his paintings. Crazy loon. And 'pparently the creeper fancies hisself a fedora. Can you believe that?"

The librarian leaned forward, making sure she heard correctly. "You don't say?"

At this, Terra stood up, and the two adults suddenly quieted, as if their conversation was too inappropriate for a kid.

Not like Terra cared, waltzing up to the front desk with a very specific task in mind.

"Ma'am," he began, giving her a smile. "May I ask for a book about fedoras?"

She blushed at the proof that he heard their every word. "W-what are you needing, exactly?"

"I want to know what one looks like." Terra smiled wider, ignoring the way the man cleaned his own teeth with his tongue.

The librarian nodded quickly, like she had just been given orders by someone very important, and rushed off to find a book from a nearby shelf. She did Terra the favor of flipping through it for him, handing it over with pages showing off hats: fedoras, some with large rims, others short, all of them with similar dips at the top.

"You're a very smart boy," he heard her say, making him look up.

"Thank you, ma'am."

She squealed with glee. "And so very polite, too, they don't make kids like you these days no more." She leaned on her hands, looking down on him from her desk. "I've never seen you 'round here before."

Terra cleared his throat. He was instructed to tell very specific stories should anyone ask. "I'm from the city, miss."

She leaned further at the sound of his answer, like he was just as much of a specimen - it reminded him of the way people gawked at Aqua. "You don't happen to be the investigator's son now, are you?"

My dad?

That was right, if anyone asked, he was supposed to agree. Eraqus was so focused on proper obedience that the most proper way to address him was always "Master," and Terra wondered if it meant he was doing something bad if he lied about their relationship.

Was he, really, if he was lying for a mission?

Either way, it made him feel good to say yes.

*****

When school was over, Terra had instructions to find her.

He'd spent so long being the only kid at the Land of Departure that seeing a mass of children rummaging through the school grounds was like a punch to his heart, reminding him of the orphanage. It made him wonder how the ones he left behind were doing… did they find parents? Did they still hope for some or did they give up? What about Miss Quistis, the lady who ran the orphanage - was she still there? She always smiled.

Terra spotted Aqua, surrounded by other girls and one boy, who asked her incessant questions and ate all of her answers. Aqua was either uncomfortable or shy - he couldn't tell.

This was where Terra was completely useless, making new friends. He was going to be a Keyblade Master, a hero and savior to anyone who needed help, so sure, he'd be brave in the face of danger, or in the game between life and death.

But he remembered the lesson he kept facing again and again at the orphanage: other kids didn't want him around.

So he did what he thought he'd never do again: sit on a bench by himself and watch the others talk and play ball.

He was already so good at staring at rocks that he didn't notice that another child approached him -

Aqua, with her hand extended. He almost thought she wanted him to save her from her nosy friends, but he wasn't going to be fooled that he was necessary in a predicament like this.

"Come play with us," she said.

What was that about being a savior when she was the one to save him?

He was shaking when he took her hand, and didn't know if he was shaking harder as she led him through groups of wandering kids that broke off into their own cliques. Mostly he just stood there when she introduced him to her friends, and needed verbal permission to play skip rope with them.

Terra was smart and got the hang of it, and let himself enjoy some of the games - that is, until the other kids gaped with eyes wide open at someone behind him. The yard surrounding the school dulled into silence - and it wasn't because the kids went home.

Some pudgy kid with a round face, a mean look, a swollen eye, and oily hair approached their group, and with such vigor that everyone else made space for him, like he was king and they were terrified of him, and he knew he terrified them and he took pride in that.

"Looks like the cursed girl is back," he chipped in, and no one had anything to retort.

"Shut up, Pap," Aqua snarked, and the other kids stared in shock.

"Best be on the lookout or else being 'round her will curse your parents, too," he said with cackle, searching for nods of agreement from the other children nearby. He was a giant of a child, definitely a head taller than Terra.

What was most surprising was how literally no one mentioned how cruel that was to say - it nearly made Terra want to punch this Pap in the face… but adults always punished him for getting into fights.

Aqua's lip quivered for a moment before she went cold. "The only reason why no one went after your dad was because his breath stinks. Who'd go near him?"

Pap's face twitched at the sound of giggles from the other kids. "You know," he said with a crunch of his knuckles, "Preacher said your parents must have sinned an awful lot to get what was coming to 'em."

Terra searched for any adults who might be watching. There was no one.

Pap continued his crap. "So yer one to talk. I normally don't hit girls."

"Try me!" Aqua shrieked, pushing him like she didn't care in the world what could happen to her.

That pissed Pap off.

He went ahead, fist in the air for a clean strike.

Despite urging him on, Aqua scrunched her fists into her skirt, like she didn't know what she got herself into.

Terra had no choice.

Grabbing the fist, twisting the arm over, and tripping Pap by the ankle came so fluidly, so naturally, that all the children blinked once just to realize that his huge butt landed on the ground before he even got close to Aqua.

"That was easy," Terra smirked, now standing in between an idiot covered in dirt and Aqua.

It was easy. No one compared to Master Eraqus.

There were some loud gasps and name-calling from the crowd, followed by silence.

"Y-you don't belong here, ain't got no reason to-" Pap's surprised stutters and the drool coming out of his mouth was the first sign of him turning his heel and leaving them alone, yelling something like "I'mma tell my pa!" before he disappeared.

The crowd dissipated slowly, giving Terra and Aqua stares like they were the next most dangerous thing. Like they were freaks, even though Terra had just stood up to the one bully terrorizing them. Why? Not even her friends wanted to be near her, acting like she wasn't even there.

Aqua sniffled behind him, but she just left him alone when he asked if she was okay, taking a place on a bench near the road.

Maybe Terra was used to that by now, but he followed her, paying no mind how she refused to look at him. "Don't think about Pap, he's stupid," he said.

"He is stupid," she croaked, before raising her voice to a yell. "And school is stupid and everything is stupid."

She glared at her lap and Terra didn't know what to say. The other children eventually left the school in droves, some walking together to wherever they've decided to go, while others had their parents pick them up.

"Who usually picks you up?" Terra asked after a while, hating the silence.

Aqua raised her head to meet him in the eye. She didn't cry, but she looked like a pet anxiously waiting at a windowsill for its owner. She looked like Tod.

"My daddy."

Terra didn't have a good reply to that. Eraqus wasn't around - Eraqus wasn't around, and a horrid thought lurked in his stomach. What if they were both now left alone here for good?

It lasted for merely a second. Thankfully.

"I apologize for my late arrival," the Master said, which didn't matter. He still came and Terra found his breath again. "Would any of you like treats? Maybe some flavored ice for this dastardly weather?" He wiped his brow with a handkerchief.

Aqua didn't reply, but reached out to hold his hand with both of hers, and hid her face in his robe. Terra was still processing whatever it was that made him nauseous.

Eraqus smiled but acted like nothing out of the ordinary happened. "I am quite fond of lemon flavor myself."

******

The walk back to Mrs. Tweed's farm seemed longer, and the Master filled it with random stories of the games he used to play as a child. Terra had heard some stories about the past before, but Eraqus left out certain key details that would have marked him as a foreigner to this world, and one day Terra would have to do the same.

Aqua didn't say much, just gripped the Master's hand tightly as she followed him, her eyes lazy and missing, like the road she was staring at didn't exist.

It didn't matter that she never spoke back, the Master kept looking over his shoulder to see if she was listening, smiling at her like she gave him acknowledgement of his words.

Then, she stopped on her feet, and the Master complied. By now, the sun was halfway down to setting.

"I told them," she whimpered.

"Told who what?" the Master asked.

"I told my parents about the bad man."

What dropped first was the Master's smile, then he knelt before her. "The bad man?"

"Mm-hmm," she nodded. "We met him at the summer fair. At night. He sat at a table drinking ale and we passed by him. He asked about me, and my parents answered some questions like I went to school and I danced."

"Was that all?"

She shook her head. "I told them he was bad."

Eraqus cocked his head, more attentive than ever. "How did you know this?"

Her face contorted, her brows scrunching into wrinkles and her lips bending at the center. "I just knew he was bad. I pulled on mama and told daddy to stay away, but they said I was rude."

Then the first tears Terra saw on her face fell, and she struggled to breathe. "They didn't believe me," she said.

She wailed, the most horrid sound Terra had ever heard, and it was so loud that it filled his ears and invaded his chest, and he nearly cried from it, too. It hurt to hear it and it hurt to think about why.

Eraqus picked her up, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist, with words that said, There, there, you are safe and sound, safe, safe, safe, as they trudged down the road, leaving Terra to carry her bookbag.

She was limp, all her energy seeping into sobs on the Master's shoulder, and all the noise she made frightened the rabbits and the birds nearby.

******

Since they got back, Abigail fussed hard like the air was suffocating her.

"She's doing a little better," the Master observed when he found Terra alone in the barn, brushing the cow, which really helped her calm down.

But now it was Terra willed into silence, Abigail's chewing of hay filling the room.

"Are you alright?"

Terra nodded. "Is it true you found the preacher's daughter?"

Eraqus' nostrils flared and he inhaled. "Word surely spreads far in this world. Yes, Terra, I did."

The Master took his place on a short stool normally setup for milking, but instead of fetching a pail, he rubbed on the hairs of his mustache with his thumb and forefinger.

"This man, if he could still be called one, is very predatory… I saw him today."

Terra nearly dropped the brush. "What?"

"Ardyn, I came into contact with him at the horse farmer's home. It's become a dreary place. Even with the sunshine, the halls of that house stay dark." Eraqus cleared his throat and took the milking pail, though he did nothing with it. "A terrible thing, the darkness. Being near it for too long will compel anyone to commit atrocities they otherwise would not do with a sane mind." He raised a finger at Terra, ready to lecture. "This is why you must never tread on that path, lest you want regrets, Terra."

"Yes, sir."

"Ardyn had found refuge within the oil paintings across the farmer's house, and I've chased him. He would appear and disappear at a whim, taking occupancy in frames he didn't belong… until he stepped out of one."

"And then what happened?" Terra asked quietly. "Did you fight?"

Eraqus nodded, and Terra's stomach dropped. "Unfortunately, he melted into his own shadows, escaping." He took a side glance. "I do not believe this beast is blind like it describes in my records."

"Sir?"

"Terra, do you remember your lessons about the nature of light and darkness?"

Of course he did, he was a good student. He recited, "Light attracts darkness, and darkness will hunt down the light. They are designed to recognize each other."

"Yes. Yes, indeed." Eraqus stared at nothing, gathering thoughts before he put them to words. "Aqua's intuition in recognizing the darkness only asserts my suspicions - I believe he hunted her down for the immensely bright light within her."

"... Why did he go after her parents?"

"Hmmm… the more I ponder over it, the more I see why the records have him labeled as blind. As a hunter, he is barely decent. When I fought him, nothing about his movements and his aversions to my presence gave me the impression that he couldn't see. It was more of… he can sense light when it is near. It alarms him but it deceives him. What I have noticed is his breath, it is so deep when he fights it as though he is drowning."

"So he sniffs the light when it's around?"

"In a way. He approached Aqua's house in daylight, when she was in school, so it would be sensible that her presence would be smeared all over her home, where her parents resided unaware."

"Then why doesn't he find her now?"

Eraqus, pensive and tense this entire time, sighed, like he just remembered that he was talking about human beings. "She is grieving. We all have light and darkness within us, Terra. Grief and rage will cloak our very best selves, and while she is under that state, it hides her from him.

"This is why," Eraqus continued, needing Terra's attention, "it is important that she understands there are others who care about her. To give her inner light a chance to shine again, and remember what it feels like to be happy. A dark mind lends to a dark heart and too much of that will warp her. Do you understand what I am saying, Terra?"

"Yes, sir. I've been trying to make her smile."

"Good. I know I can count on you." Eraqus' smile was brief as if he didn't have the time for it. "As for the preacher's daughter, unfortunately I believe she was mere collateral. A source of light that he found confusing, and he attacked her as such. There is so much darkness to be found in many worlds, Terra, and they wear many faces but this is the most gruesome that I've seen in my lifetime."

So Ardyn could find anyone with enough light, and just�� end it all.

"Why?" Terra choked. "Why would anyone do that?"

Eraqus rubbed his student's head. "The reason will differ for each, but it is all senseless and primitive."

The tears were hot and Terra wasn't strong enough to stop them.

Eraqus reached to hold him, alarmed at the sight. "What has gotten into you? Are you frightened?"

Terra sniffed quietly and nodded, using his forearm to wipe his face.

"What if you die?" he squeaked.

"Terra, look at me." He was gentle, but firm. "I will not die."

"Aqua's parents died. And the preacher's daughter."

His Master sighed, rubbing Terra's arms before brushing his hair out of his tear-stained face. "Terra… they had no means of defending themselves, but I am very different. You have no reason to fear. Dry those tears."

He swallowed. "Y-yes, sir."

"If this is too much for you, I can send you home where you'll feel safe."

"No, sir." He stared at his Master's shoes. Under no circumstances did Terra want to go home, abandoning the mission, wondering for days if everyone was okay. And Aqua was so sad, today. "If I leave, then Aqua will be all alone, and I want to be brave."

"You possess an extraordinary amount of courage, capable and necessary for any true Keyblade wielder." Eraqus leaned over to make sure that Terra understood correctly. "The amulet I gave you, Terra, do you still mind it?"

"Y-yes, sir." Terra hurried to pull the knotted, looped cross from under his shirt. "I don't even take it off for a bath."

"Very good. You remember what I told you?"

"If anything-" He swallowed. He didn't want anything to happen. Now he wanted to go home and have Eraqus all to himself. "If anything happened, I need to stay calm and find you."

"And it will protect you. Be mindful of the fickleness of protection spells, Terra. They are powerful but they expire."

"Yes, sir."

The Master wiped Terra's face with his robe, and brushed through his hair with his fingers. Then he took the pail near him, ready to take on Abigail. "You are dismissed, Terra. Take some fresh air outside." He gave a smirk. "Let us hope the next time we speak of such evils, you would be a stronger, braver Keybearer ready to take on the challenge."

"Yes, sir."

******

Dragging his feet on the ground as he welcomed the cool breeze that hit his face, the vastness of the stars above him made this world seem bigger than it truly was. The forests beyond faded into darkness, the shadows mean under the moonlight.

At least Aqua was there, settled in the grass where Tod curled on her lap, his bright red fur the only spec of color to be seen in a night like this one. She was watching the forest but she was not really on her guard, like she didn't consider that something dangerous could be hiding where she couldn't see.

She wasn't crying anymore but her face was still puffy, and Terra took a spot next to her. She nudged over to give him more space, lending him a half-smile as a greeting. The grass was soft but itchy, too tall and in need of grooming.

"Everyone at school now knows me as the girl with no parents," Aqua said, eyes downcast with her hand sunk in Tod's vibrant red fur, and a tone that said she'd rather be known as literally anything else. She sounded tired, too - sick of being sad.

"I don't have any parents either."

She gaped at him with a pity he didn't comprehend. "Mr. Eraqus…?"

For once, Terra shook his head. "He's my teacher."

"Oh…" And there she was again, sad, and he got the notion that it was for him even though he didn't need it. "What happened to them?"

"They gave me up when I was a baby," he said simply. He lived with this knowledge all his life; it wasn't a big deal. Well… it kind of was. All the children went through a phase at some point that maybe they didn't deserve to have a family. But it really wasn't that big of a deal. It wasn't. "I grew up in an orphanage… but I have Master Eraqus now. Everything's great."

"But you live with your teacher."

"The best teacher ever."

She quieted. "...Do you even go to school?"

Terra didn't know what to say. He was supposed to talk about Eraqus being his father this entire time that he didn't have backup answers. "Sorta. I'm his only apprentice. We live in a special academy up in the mountains."

"Really?" She eyed the West, toward the direction of what these townspeople called mountains in this world. "Where?"

"Uh, very far away."

"Hm. So is it a lie that you're from the city?"

"No!" He said too quickly. "I come from a city - a really big one. All the buildings there are taller than your mountains here."

She gave him a… snooty look. "There's no such thing as a city like that."

"Yes, there is."

"No, there isn't."

"It's true," he pleaded. She was such a hard nut to crack. "Okay fine, there's more to it but... can you keep a secret?"

She lit up. "Yeah."

"You have to promise not to tell anyone, or I'll get in trouble."

"Cross my heart."

If she put her heart on the line, then she was serious. "The Master and I aren't from around here."

"Well," she scoffed, "duh."

"No, I mean…" He waved to the sky above them, stars twinkling like they wanted to be noticed. "We're from very, very far away."

It took her a second to think about what he was saying, then she rolled her eyes. "Are you saying you're aliens? That's ridiculous."

He laughed – it wasn't the response he expected, but it wasn't exactly the wrong interpretation either. "Kind of? We are from a distant star, and we flew from there."

"Pfft."

"I'm not lying."

"Sure, you're an alien."

Why she had to be such a snob at all times, he didn't know. Still, Terra felt like a complete idiot – here was someone finally willing to listen to him, to share a secret with and be his friend, and he blew it. He hated the silence penetrating between them now.

Aqua suddenly threw her hands in the air, as if she had enough exasperation to last her the day. "Aliens are supposed to have green skin, okay? They look like bugs, with antennas, and they're bald-"

Like she was the expert.

She said it in a way as if asking him to prove her wrong, and he swayed right back into smiling. Maybe he didn't blow it after all.

"There's more to the stars than you think," he said smugly.

Aqua crossed her arms and studied him for a bit.

What she said next surprised him - not because she believed him, or because she had her own secret to tell, but because he never really experienced someone who missed him before.

"Does that mean you'll have to leave soon?"

Those brief moments where she was smiling were so short.

"Maybe…" And Terra found himself sad, too. "Yeah. When the Master catches Ardyn, we'll have to go back home."

He didn't know if she was going to cry, but she didn't. She turned her nose up at him.

"You can't leave."

"Why not?"

"Because you're my friend now, and I won't let you."

Terra laughed because he had no other reaction. He didn't want to leave either, but he didn't say that out loud. What he realized instead was why she was so attached to Tod and Copper staying together: friendship meant a lot to her, maybe even as much as him, even though he didn't have any.

"We should find Copper tomorrow," he said. "It's wrong that they're separated."

She lit up. "Tod is lonely without him."

And Terra didn't want Tod to be lonely. "We could think of ways to get him back so we aren't caught."

"Promise?" She leaned near him, scanning his eyes for his oath.

Terra traced over his heart with one finger, and swore his first promise to someone who wasn't Eraqus. "Cross my heart."

******

After school the next day, Aqua minded her chores with such focus and speed that she finished earlier than expected and sought out Master Eraqus in the barn.

When she asked, "Mr. Eraqus, can Terra come out to play?" it was proof that yes, Terra did have a new friend. She was ready for the woods, replacing her dress with overalls and an excitable Tod by her feet.

Eraqus of course was pleased to hear that and sent Terra a smug grin before agreeing, which was probably the first time that Terra could remember being let go from his chores early.

Finding Copper was easy, and getting him out wasn't as hard as anticipated. Amos Slade relied too much on his intimidations, apparently, because Copper was there just the same. It took stealing a dog muzzle to contain Chief's barking so no one would be alerted.

Terra felt bad. He promised Chief that they'd all come back, even though Aqua told him that Chief hated Tod and wasn't nice either to anyone either.

Little Copper though was delighted.

And it turned out, babysitting small animals was tiring, and the two of them still went at it with their games while Terra and Aqua took turns lazily guessing the shapes of clouds.

They even talked some more about what he did as Eraqus' apprentice: what kind of classes he took, how far into defense training he had progressed so far, and whether he ever had to tolerate something dumb like math.

His answers were pretty honest except he never once mentioned the word Keyblade. It was a Keybearer's most important clause to keep that secret.

Watching dog and fox toss and tumble, practicing their survival skills on each other, gave Aqua a peculiar idea.

"Can you teach me how to fight?"

"That'd be fun. You're gonna show Pap's who's boss?"

"It's something I've always wanted to do, but Mama said it wasn't ladylike. It's too ferocious."

Terra stood up, at the ready. "It's not hard."

She hopped to a stance, her hands already in lifted. "Then show me."

"Well first…" He grabbed her wrists and brought them closer to her face. "You need to always protect yourself, and this will make it easier."

Then he lifted one open palm. "Try hitting me."

She threw her fist, and it smacked enough to sting.

"Ow," he whined.

Aqua's knuckles were already red from one punch, and she winced.

Terra shook his hand to relieve the pressure. "You hit hard, which isn't bad, but you're also hurting yourself." He lifted his other palm to spare the first. He remembered the way Eraqus spoke to him when he taught, going back to his earliest lessons. "Try thinking about your strength coming from your back, and use that to direct the punch."

It took several times, and Terra often switched palms for her to strike (it helped ease his pain). But Aqua took his lessons much faster than he expected, honestly, finally getting the proper amount of force in her punches without expecting her fingers to break.

"We use the same advice in ballet," she said.

"Really?"

"It's to make sure you're in alignment and you're moving properly."

"Oh!" He dropped a hand after she finished another throw straight into the center of it, now leveled off so that it didn't sting him anymore. "The Master and I talk about that stuff all the time. I didn't think it'd be useful in dance."

"Pfft." Suddenly she leaned off her focus on slugging and stood as straight as a rod. "Observe."

With feet turned out and a curve at her elbows, Aqua started to… well, bend her knees repeatedly.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"It's called a plié," she said as though he should know better. "Try it with me."

Turning out his feet was more uncomfortable than it looked, and he copied her movements, even when she brought one arm out to her side and swept the other across and over her head.

It looked easy to copy and honestly he got bored, but she started laughing -

He realized he never really heard her laugh before. It sounded like small bells, with a sparkle to her eyes. She looked different, alive almost.

"What's so funny?"

She mimicked what he was doing: hunched over, with his arms so curved that it looked like he was about to scratch his side and his head. "You look like a monkey."

"I do not."

He gave up, stomped his foot on the ground and swore to himself that he'd never dance again.

"Aww," she breathed, swallowing the rest of her loose laughs to regain some composure. "I didn't mean it that way. We can try something different."

"How about this," he interrupted, with a finger to command her attention. "We do a little competition and whoever wins gets to decide what game we should play."

Terra already had an idea in mind where he was sure he'd win.

"That sounds fun! What should we do?"

"Whoever does a handstand the longest wins."

Initially, he expected her to be intimidated, but she replied with, "That sounds easy. Let's do it."

It sunk his stomach, but he knew that he was good with this, so he should still be fine.

They bent over, and on his count of three, they lifted their legs into the air and balanced on their hands.

The blood rushed to his head, but he'd done this so many times that he breathed through it.

"Should we count it out?" he heard her say, his gaze somewhere off to the forest where Tod and Copper took a break from their roughhousing.

"What?"

"Count it out, like how many seconds it takes to do this?"

What was harder than breathing was talking in this position. "Nah."

"Okay." She sounded like she had no struggle in the world. "I used to take lots of gymnastics. I really miss it."

He really wished she would stop talking so he could concentrate on staying still.

"Cool," he muttered.

"I had a teacher who thought I would do well in competing," she continued, "but Papa wanted me to stay in school."

"Okay," he huffed.

"I've always wondered-"

He groaned, falling over onto his stomach into the thick grass underneath him, his head light. She glanced behind her, and with a smirk, gracefully went back on her feet and looked over him.

"I win!"

"Obviously."

"And I choose the game of…" She took a finger to her chin, very proud and very dismissive of his utter disappointment. "Hide and seek."

"Seriously?" He was going to refuse because he had pride and hurting it made him fume.

"I won, so we have to play. But Tod and Copper stay with you."

"Why?"

She waved her arm at him, already on her way, like he asked her a silly question. "They'd give my location away, and I'm not gonna let you cheat."

"Fine." He buried his face in arms against a tree and started to count out loud, listening closely to the direction of her steps so he had as many clues as possible; he was going to find her so quickly, she'd know immediately that he was worthy of respect, and she shouldn't ever laugh at him again.

"... Eight, nine, ten. Ready or not, here I come!" he yelled, the branches and bushes that surround him lightly swaying to a song he couldn't hear. The wind was just as gentle, leaving him alone to hear his own breath.

Copper sniffed the air, and Terra had the sinister thought of asking him to track her down - but that would be cheating, and Terra was better than that.

When he started his trek, the animals took notice. Tod's ears perked a little too much, like trying to decipher a sound that was garbled.

Terra went down the trail he believed she took. "Aqua?" he called - this never worked in hide and seek, but maybe it would trick her into giggling.

Tod and Copper followed closely at his ankles, never running ahead, never falling behind - which was weird, wouldn't they immediately react if she was nearby?

"Aqua," he called again, listening in for any ruffling.

It was quiet, like the forest was dead despite its lush green vitality, despite that it was daylight.

At this point, Tod's fluffy tail curled underneath him, and Copper dagged himself too close to the ground, chasing a scent in the dirt that took him in circles.

At this point, Terra spotted an owl - an owl - up at this hour, watching him like he was prey.

Getting into a staring contest with an owl was useless, and the longer Terra looked at her, the more he realized that she was waiting for something to happen.

The owl hooted, and against such quiet, it was thundered in his ears. Tod and Copper perked up at the warning -

And split from him, sprinting so quickly it was like they had to win a race to be allowed to live.

"Wait a min-"

They were gone, the owl leaving with them.

Aqua probably would yell at him for losing them.

If he'd ever talk to her again, that is.

"Aqua?" he called again, desperate for an answer. Praying that he'd find her fast, tripping over loose tree branches, hearing nothing but the noise of his own footsteps.

"Looking for someone?"

The voice came from behind.

A tall, tall man watched him with a diabolic smile. Wavy hair to his shoulders the same color as wine like it begged to be touched, thickly dressed in messy layers like he was homeless, like he was cold (it was way too hot for that).

Terra's heart beat and it went cold the moment he noticed the large-brimmed fedora.

"I-" Terra swallowed. A Keybearer was supposed to be brave. "I'm not, mister."

"Hmm," the man named Ardyn rubbed his chin. "I was wondering if you could point me in the correct direction," he said, words clearly pronounced and laced with an amusement that'd never die even if threatened. "I seem to have lost my way."

Terra nearly asked to please not hurt him, he didn't do anything wrong. "Town's over that way, mister." He pointed north, away from the Widow Tweed's farm.

Another voice rushed to his side. "Terra, don't!"

It was Aqua, breathless when she grabbed his hand. Her pupils shrunk to the size of flies, and she whispered to his ear, "It's the bad man."

"Aha!" Ardyn exclaimed like greeting an old friend he forgot about. "How long it has been to see you, Aqua." Ardyn slipped off his hat and bowed his head to give her a more respectful greeting.

Aqua shuddered, her grip on Terra's hand cutting off circulation to his fingers.

Terra didn't know what to do. This man looked bigger than his Master, and Terra never defeated his teacher in hand-to-hand combat before.

So he froze.

Worse - the moment Ardyn straightened out, his face was different: glowing yellow eyes, black oil seeping from them and from his scalp and from his mouth. He was already a dead man who spoke.

"It's been a pleasure," he said as he wore his hat again. "Good night, sweet child. Sleep will certainly hurt less."

Terra gripped her hand back.

Aqua hid behind his shoulder.

Ardyn raised a palm, the glow of magenta and black puffs of smoke electrifying at his fingertips.

Terra looked away, shut his eyes, got closer to her.

It hurt. It was sore like a dull hit to his chest and it banged loudly -

But he flew, with Aqua grabbing him by the waist and flying with him, as the blast threw them background and they used the momentum to float away, past the trees, past Tod and Copper who were still running, until they were dropped to the ground, rolling in a mess of fallen leaves.

Terra was alive, and finally he breathed. They were near Mrs. Tweed's house, her chimney sticking up above the trees.

He scurried to his knees and fiddled with his necklace, pulling out the knotted symbol. It disintegrated into dust after carrying them here.

The plan! Stay calm. Find the Master. Immediately he stood on his feet, and slipped on leaves.

The mission! He still had to protect the mission. He turned heel and went back to Aqua.

"What was that?" he heard Aqua mumble. She was still picking herself up, removing leaves from her hair.

"Magic. C'mon." He grabbed her by the wrist and dragged her, running as fast as he could.

"Master!" he cried when they got near the farmhouse, Tod and Copper yipping from their fright.

Abigail fussed and she was loud enough that they heard her from the barn. In the distance, Chief wouldn't stop barking. The wind howled, and the clouds darkened. A gunshot ruptured in the distance.

Eraqus stepped off the front porch, telling the widow to stay indoors. "Step inside," he instructed Terra and Aqua. "And stay inside."

"Master-"

"Now."

Another gunshot, closer this time.

Copper and Tod followed them inside the house, rushing under furniture. Mrs. Tweed locked the door behind them as Eraqus continued his way into the field. Terra climbed the kitchen counter to take a look.

"Stay away from the windows!" she commanded, and Terra jumped off to head upstairs.

"Wait for me," he heard Aqua squeak but he paid no attention to her.

He rushed through the upstairs hallway, into the master bedroom, right to the windows where he threw the curtains open.

Moments ago it was broad daylight but now it threatened to storm.

Eraqus summoned his Keyblade in a crackle of light, Ardyn now creeping close.

The demon hunched over, the oil dripping out of his coat-sleeve. Sparks of purple light surrounding him, and the ghosts of swords and axes and cleavers swirled in the air in a cycle, a record of ages that passed by for how long this thing had been living.

He used them to strike the Master, slicing and dicing and scratching metal with metal.

Deflected, far enough to strike a tree nearby the second-floor window and Terra and Aqua had to duck.

"Your Master is a sorcerer?" she asked.

It wasn't incorrect. "Eh?"

"I read about them in books," she said as they peeked over the windowsill.

"Shh."

Eraqus summoned chains, gold and blinding and huge, to whip Ardyn - it was the coolest thing Terra had ever seen him do.

Ardyn said something indecipherable, and with a yell, Eraqus summoned something larger: a giant warp that swallowed the demon away before reshaping into a giant keyhole in the sky.

One that the Master promptly locked, the sound of the turnkey snapping everything into silence.

The sun fought through the clouds, and the wind calmed slowly.

Eraqus trudged back to the house, holding his arm as he dismissed his Keyblade, and he limped enough for Terra to bolt back downstairs, leaving Aqua to follow him once again.

The house was messier, like it survived a small earthquake with books toppled over and desks in the wrong position.

He found the Master settled on a loveseat while Mrs. Tweed rushed to get him water.

"I was unable to vanquish him," Eraqus said through large breaths. "But he has been barred from ever coming back to this world."

"Miracles do exist!" Mrs. Tweed exclaimed as she handed him a mug. "Bless you, good sir. I never in my life expected such a spectacle when you showed up around here."

"Miracles," the Master repeated. That was going to be the story for the rest of time to these people, of a man who came from nowhere to perform miracles that saved the town, Mrs. Tweed being the only witness to a harsh storm that raged and died in a matter of minutes.

Terra sat closely to his Master, not to take his hand or to hug him, but to listen to him calm down.

In the chaos, Terra didn't realize that it made him scared to watch Eraqus march his way to battle. Knowing now that everything was alright, it took all his strength to look like he wasn't overwhelmed.

Now the people of this world were safe, and Eraqus was the hero. The thing about his Master was that he showed no fear in the heat of battle, when Terra nearly wet his pants earlier. If he was ever going to get better, he had a long way to go.

Mainly, Terra was just happy that he still had family at the end of it all.

"I want to do what you do," he heard a small voice pipe up.

Aqua stared hard at Eraqus, determination on fire in her eyes, awed and fierce and hopeful.

The Master wasn't surprised by her admission. "You want to save people?"

"Yes," she said simply.

Mrs. Tweed threw her hand to her chest. "In all my life-"

"I want to banish demons," Aqua continued.

"That sounds perfectly unsafe," Mrs. Tweed said.

Eraqus chuckled. Terra thought that he may have succeeded his first mission because it gave the Master what he wanted - a new, promising student. "It can be a dangerous life, but I assure you that she would be safe with me."

Mrs. Tweed eyed Terra, suspicions mounting in her mind. "The young boy, he is…?"

"Yes, ma'am," Terra said. "I'm his apprentice, and I'm training to do the very same thing."

"Aqua," Mrs. Tweed implored, "you are certain?"

A sad cloud hovered over Aqua's eyes before dissipating in an instant. "Thank you so much for taking care of me, Mrs. Tweed… but I've been called a hippie all my life for my name. I don't belong here. I never did."

Eraqus stood straighter, interlacing his fingers and addressing the widow. "I only take children who have no families nor a place to go, children who I am certain will perform spectacularly."

Aqua leaned forward with a hand to her heart. "Please take me. I'll be a good student. I can do ballet and gymnastics, I'll make perfect grades and-"

"You have a strong heart," Eraqus said to her with a warm smile.

She blinked, not understanding what he really meant but she nodded anyway.

And Terra saw it - or felt it, he wasn't sure. It was like a tug to his own heart, a flash and a tickle before it faded. This was what Eraqus was talking about.

He saw the light within Aqua, a warm, strong embrace, like he was meant to feel safe with her and meant to keep it protected.

It was pretty even though he couldn't really see it.

And Terra wondered if he emanated the same. He thought that one night when he tried to bring it out of himself and he couldn't, and how he went to sleep wondering if he had it at all.

He wondered if his was as strong as hers, and if he was doomed to fail because it wasn't.

******

Aqua said she cried more than she expected when she said goodbye to Mrs. Tweed, even though Terra never saw anything.

She was stronger when she said goodbye to Tod, rubbing the fur on his chest a little while longer because she never wanted to forget the way it felt.

"Do you think they'll stay friends forever?" she asked Terra.

If she was talking about Copper… "Of course they will." A fox and a hound were opposites by nature, in a violent cycle that would never end but friendship was supposed to be strong and indestructible, and Tod and Copper were the very best of friends. Nothing would tear them apart.

"Always stay together, okay Tod?" she whispered to the fox, before giving him a quiet farewell.

This was a few days after the battle with Ardyn. By this time, people started visiting the farmhouse to ask Eraqus all sorts of questions: if he was a magician, if he was sent from the heavens, if he was the devil, if all the demonic stuff was nonsense, if the murderer was killed…

Either way, Eraqus respected the laws of the world and they all had to wait until papers were written, agreed upon, and signed for his protection over Aqua as one of his own.

Today was the day to finally take her to the Land of Departure. She didn't have much: one pack of luggage, and one hard, gray folder.

When Terra asked what was inside, she said it was the only picture of her parents that survived the fire.

The three of them hiked into the woods. She started asking the basic need-to-know: what a Keyblade was, the eternal fight between light and darkness, where the Land of Departure was located -

"We're going to fly there, right?" Aqua asked.

Eraqus shot Terra a look, now that she admitted that she knew information she wasn't supposed to know.

"We are indeed." Eraqus stopped the hike, halting the other two behind him, and bent to his knees. "I have one question left for you, Aqua."

By the sound of his voice, Terra knew he was testing her.

"In the deepest part of your heart, why is it that you want to wield the Keyblade?" he asked.

She took a moment, the folder with her parent's photo wrapped in her arms. "I want to make my parents proud. I want to make sure nothing like this ever happens again to someone else."

By the way the Master nodded, she passed. "The Keyblade is a powerful weapon, Aqua. You are still young, and you won't be able to conjure your own for a few years, but you must always know that your strength is bright and strong. It is not to be used for purposes of vengeance."

Aqua nodded. "Revenge feels yucky to me."

With that, the Master was relieved. He patted her head. "Admirable. When we arrive at the castle, you will spend the rest of the day for leisure, but tomorrow we will start your first formal class."

She beamed, and Terra remembered similar excitement at the thought of starting classes with Eraqus, too. He used to be called a nerd for liking school.

"We're going to be students in the same class," she said to Terra, like she was looking forward to it.

Terra didn't know how to respond. Class was class, students were students. Friends were… they acted like they cared. "Uh, yeah."

"I can't wait, Mr. Eraqus," she said. "I'm going to make the best grades."

"W-wha?" Terra stuttered.

"First I must start your bequeathing, Aqua. Come." He gestured to her over by the nearby creek.

"This is going to be fun," she said to Terra before hopping over.

He watched the bequeathing, similar to how he went through it for the first time years ago, when the Master summoned a giant key and spoke a few fancy words. The energy from the magic passed from the weapon through his fingertips, up to his heart to ignite something that Terra later realized was probably always there.

The Keyblade was picky about who it chose and it chose Aqua today.

What it'd be like to wake up to a new person in his home, Terra had no idea what to expect. They would play and swap stories, he'd have a new fighting partner. Maybe he'd be allowed to go into the woods without supervision.

Something about it bugged him, though. Was it possible that he could be kicked out of the academy if he didn't measure up? What if Eraqus liked her better and liquified his adoption?

What would happen once Eraqus found out that her light was brighter than Terra's?

Suddenly, having a friend sounded like more trouble than it's worth.

To be continued...

This chapter makes references to the Fox and the Hound (1981).

[kdmenvs300019-blog]

#11. Nature interpretation in my past, present and future.

I’ll admit, I put off writing this post for a while. It just seemed so daunting! Trying to debrief what I’ve learned and how I’ve grown (all while connecting to lecture, labs, and readings) is no easy task! But here we go.

I signed up for Nature Interpretation thinking I’d be tasked with leading a nature hike in the Arboretum. I was happy to do this. In fact, I’d led several nature hikes in the past as a high school co-op student at a local land trust. And up until now, that’s really what I thought nature interpretation was – nature hikes, pond studies, and other outdoor programs. Through this course, however, I’ve learned there is much more to nature interpretation! In the sections below I’ll discuss my core beliefs and responsibilities as a nature interpreter, and what approaches I plan to use into the future.

“What I learned in nature interpretation is…blankity blankity blank!” I learned a lot and I’ll attempt to summarize key points in my post! Image from SpongeBob SquarePants, Nickelodeon... modified by me. 

 My Core Beliefs

I’ve spent a lot of time exploring nature and getting to know my natural neighbours. I believe my connections with nature drive me to protect nature and be sustainable. I realize that not everyone will share this mindset. This I know from our discussion of the “invisible backpack”. I grew up with plenty of positive experiences in nature, helping me to believe in its intrinsic value. People who have few emotions, memories, and experiences with nature may simply see it as a commodity to be exploited. But I think we can try to change that for the better by helping other people build a personal connection to nature. Here’s why:

I believe that people care about things that are meaningful to them. For example, my photo albums mean a lot to me because they help me reconnect with emotions and stories. If my house caught fire my photo albums would be one of the first thing I’d take. When it comes to nature, I know I am more likely to protect wildlife and land that means something to me. Think about this: if two sites were about to be bulldozed and covered with a housing development, would you rather save the woodlot that you walk your dog in each day or the woodlot a few hundred kilometers away in a city you’ve never visited?

Most people, I think, will fight for nature when they have a personal connection to it. When we help people discover find meaning in nature, we inspire them to care about nature and want to protect it.

I know I’m more likely to protect things and places that I have a connection to. Photo credits to my mother.

 My Responsibility

I’ve stated my belief about creating meaningful connections with nature. So how can I accomplish this as a nature interpreter? To answer this, I looked back at what I’ve learned in the course. I can’t remember if it was Chris or Aaron, but at some point in class we were reminded that we can’t force people to connect with nature. We can only create the optimal conditions for people to make their own connections. One responsibility of mine is to create these optimal conditions. How might I do this? Relate the subject matter to the lives of the audience – the gift of a spark! Help the audience have positive experiences in nature – the gift of joy! And finally, let my passion for nature illuminate the lives of my audience – the gift of passion!

Another responsibility I have is to encourage people to connect with nature while minimizing harm to it. For example, people can have a lot of fun camping. They might make positive memories and feel connected to nature. But in doing so they might litter, damage habitat (e.g. by removing logs for firewood) or introduce invasive species. This is not a good way to connect with nature. So I also feel responsible for promoting “leave no trace” (or at least low-impact) activities in nature.

For example, I usually encourage people to leave wildlife alone and not try to lure it in, chase it, or handle it. However, I recognize that allowing someone to interact with wildlife can help build a strong connection to it. Some examples would be holding a frog or helping to move a turtle across a dangerous road. In these cases, it’s my responsibility to give guidance on how to make the interaction safe for both you and the animal. For example, don’t pick up animals if you have sunscreen/products on your hands; hold an animal low over the ground so they don’t fall from high up if they escape; and don’t hold the animal for too long. It’s a fine balance, but I believe there are ways to enjoy nature and connect to it without wreaking havoc on it!

One part of the “Leave no Trace” infographic from Fix.com. Click here for link.

My Approach

One of the 15 principles of nature interpretation is the gift of provocation, to inspire people to broaden their horizons (Beck and Cable 2011). I have broadened my horizons in this course. Throughout the course, we’ve participated in many different approaches: music, art, history, improv, podcasts, blogs, and a traditional nature hike. Different people have different learning styles, and we can create targeted programs that work with all different styles (Beck and Cable 2011). I’m excited to use what I’ve learned to personalize my approach to nature interpretation. I love using humour to connect to people and create a moment of joy. I also enjoy art and photography. In the past year or so I’ve created a few nature cartoons, which I’ve shared on social media. With each cartoon I also post some text to explain a bit about the species featured in the cartoon and what can be done to help protect them. I hope that my cartoons serve as the “hook” to capture my audience’s attention and inspire them to seek out their own connections in nature. I don’t know whether I will end up with a career as a nature interpreter, but I know that these nature cartoons are a fun way to promote nature interpretation even as a hobby!

A screenshot of one tweet from a thread I did about four-toed salamanders. Link to thread. 

 In Closing

The biggest lessons I’ve learned relate to creating targeted programs that are well-suited to the audience. Combining an effective program with a passionate interpreter seems to be the best way to inspire people to care about nature! Thanks everyone for a good semester.

 References:

Beck, L., & Cable, T. T. (2011). The Gifts of Interpretation: Fifteen Guiding Principles for Interpreting Nature and Culture. Urbana, IL: Sagamore Publishing.

[sin-like-me]

Equal Measure

Pairing: John Seed x (tried for a Gender Neutral Deputy)

Word Count: 4,223

Warnings: I swear, I enjoy it, and I am unapologetic. Heads up.

Summary: Associations can be dangerous, determination concerning, and a small bit of plastic incredibly weighty. 

Quick Note: This is the first time I have ever shared something I have written. Be advised there is no beta reader. The idea sprang from owning the very quilt mentioned... Also, I deeply appreciate Ubisoft and their writers for creating this entire universe. I seek only to borrow the Seeds from time to time to do with them as I will.

<~~~~~~~~>~~~~~~~~~~<~~~~~~~~~~~>~~~~~~~~~~~~~<~~~~~~~~~~~~> 

‘What in the hell am I doing?!’

This is the thought that has been echoing in your head for the last twenty minutes; its insistence so loud it nearly drowns out the surrounding cacophony of frogs. Incredulity seeps from every pore as your heavily booted feet unerringly find purchase on the forest floor. It is your sure and steady tread through the darkness that impedes the wake-up call you so desperately need. You marvel with a slightly disconnected humor as your body takes over, blazing a trail to your possible destruction. Apparently, common sense was thrown violently from a window in lieu of a surety of heart.

‘I’m going to get myself killed over a damned ill conceived notion. Sorry Resistance members, your “hero” has perished due to their own asininity. Why, you good folk thought that if the Deputy ever fell it would be at the hands of a Peggie? Maybe a Judge? More the fool you.’

A fallen tree lies across the trail and without a second thought you nimbly vault over, landing with a surprisingly mute thump. These past weeks have improved your physical prowess and given you a new appreciation for stealth. Hell, once upon a time that little feat would have taken several tries before it was landed successfully. Who knew that fighting for survival would carry such excellent side benefits? Well, ya know, other than staying alive to see another day.

‘I am a damned fool, or maybe just damned.’

Above, a sliver of moon barely illuminates the neatly tied package hooked to your belt. The item in question was a bit bulky, though light weight and useful; loot you happened upon while clearing shelter for the night. That something so simple, ridiculous even, could quite possibly bring about your death was mind boggling. Logically you knew that what you carried would not only be welcomed but deeply appreciated by the Rye family. Alas, the moment you realized what you had chanced upon HIS face swam into view; vaguely alarming you with just how quickly you drew the association. Hell, if you had an ounce of self preservation you would turn on your heel and head towards Nick’s place.

‘It’s juvenile for fucks sake!’

Trying to push aside the feeling of panic clawing its way up your sides, you mentally recall every single detail leading you to this point.

‘Maybe I’m blissed out of my mind. I HAVE to be. Were there any of those damned Bliss flowers around?’

A few hours earlier you caught sight of the small white home, its silence deafening on the edge of the surrounding chaos. Blood was smeared across the front walk, the windows shattered and no vehicles, nor Bliss bouquets, present. It appeared abandoned, a potential place of rest. Crouching you held your gun at ready, muscles tensed as you methodically peeked through windows, watching, waiting, aware and patient.

Moving silently and swiftly you covered the entire perimeter neither observing nor hearing the slightest of sounds or movements from inside. Tossing a rock into several of the windows from behind cover of the truck, you held your breath half hoping for a confrontation and half dreading one. A minute become five. Nothing. It had to be clear. The Peggies weren’t known to be particularly patient. You stood, stretched your back. The weight from your survival pack taking a small toll after a solid 8 hour hike. Only a few more feet… deep, steadying breath and you leveled your shotgun at the door. Haste made your steps a bit louder than you would have liked, but as you threw open the door and swept the room, you had to smirk. Out of the corner of your eye you managed a glimpse of your face plastered on a wanted poster.

‘Wanted? Yeah, well, good luck you fanatics. I will not go gentle into that good night.’

Lowering your weapon once you established an all clear, you viciously ripped down their pitiful attempt at intimidation. Scoffing you made damn sure to leave a heavy boot print on its face, unrepentant sinner that you were and all. Inside boxes were stacked high enough to obscure any view outside, but they also enabled some cover. A short walk-through and you mentally noted all entry and exit points, only stopping to complain once.

“Shit.”

The back door had been completely removed.

Thinking on your feet, you pushed and stacked boxes in front of the opening. It wouldn’t stop much of anything, but it would serve as a noisy warning. Truthfully, it gave you what you were craving: the illusion of safety. As satisfied as you were going to be with the makeshift barrier, you returned to the living room. The now cleared couch seemed inviting but a sudden breeze through the window frames invoked an involuntary shiver. Maybe you could find a blanket in one of the many boxes? Hell, it was worth a shot. Heading over to a solitary box sitting atop an old armchair you pulled your treasured Ka-Bar knife from the top of your boot.  Making quick work of the tape, a surprised laugh escaped your lips when you immediately hit pay dirt. Luck seemed to shadow your every move… or perhaps divine intervention?

A quick thought was spared for the Seeds as you pulled a stack of cloth out of the box. Saviors of the modern world, yet death stalked their every move. Did they not see the blatant hypocrisy? Killing or force converting the masses in order to save them from “the Great Collapse”?! It was either utter bullshit or at the very least counterintuitive.

Ahha! Your hand skims smooth, thin blue cotton. While sheets were nice, something heavier would be better...annnnddddd BINGO! A quilt. You pulled it free and shook it out, letting the ends drop to the floor. The orange glow from the dying sun gave the back of the cream colored quilt an odd glow. Eyes scanning the windows, you made your way to the couch and sat down, sheets and quilt clutched in a fist.

Rule one of survival?  Rest before resistance. Maybe the Resistance should make their own posters and hang ‘em right next to those ever so cheery YES! signs.

The light of the day dipped beyond the horizon. Night began to settle in, snuffing out the remnants of illumination and cradling you in its embrace of anonymity and obscurity. In the dark you seem safe and hidden.

The perfect silence is interrupted by a low growl from your stomach. Ah, well perhaps you need more than rest. You debate eating the cans of tuna spotted on the kitchen counter, but forgo it in favor of a protein bar from your pack. Quite frankly jimmying the can open with your knife was a little more effort than you wanted to expend at that moment. Besides the chalky texture wasn’t too terrible if you ate it quickly.

Hunger abated you set your pack and shotgun on the floor beside the couch within easy reach, and pulled the sidearm from your hip. No one was comfortable trying to sleep with a gun digging into their side. Hmmm, maybe a bit more light for the moment while you arranged yourself on the couch. Leaning up from your semi-prone position and grabbing a glow stick from the side of your hiking pack, you snap it in half, shake and are engulfed in a faint, eerie, green glow. Ah, to sleep in combat boots or not was the question. Sleeping without shoes was a luxury you had not indulged in recent memory. You had to always be ready, prepared to defend, run, or kill at a moments notice. You learned quickly that having your fight or flight response consistently heightened was not sustainable. There were moments of breaking, of utter mental, emotional, and physical exhaustion so acute you didn’t give a damn about anything at all.

This was one of those times.

Fuck the shoes.

You sat up again to unlace the well worn, well loved boots when you froze in place. Horrified amusement broke your arms out in goosebumps as its chill trickled down your spine. Oh, but God had a sense of humor. Draped across your lap the quilt you had quickly dismissed as non-descript was anything but. Large squares repeated a pattern in red, blue and cream and you couldn’t help where you mind raced. Vivid flashes assaulted your senses:  blue eyes boring into yours, his cold, barely controlled fury lapping at your soul in ravenous waves.  

You hated that you read their file before leaving the station on that fated night. For weeks you did not let yourself stop to think and consider. To empathize. You knew their documented history, knew the hell the Seed brothers had endured throughout what should have been a normal childhood. Fingers reflexively clutching the fabric in your fist, your eyes lost focus, thoughts turning further inward.

Each Seed brother had been and were being shaped by their experiences, each twisted in a different way, all needing balance.. And maybe even kindness. You offered them no excuses, could not forget nor understand their actions, but suddenly you knew you could empathize with their pasts. You could glean some form of perspective, and that scared you. Were the lines not black and white in this struggle? Were there actual shades of grey?

‘Damn it!’

You shook your head trying to physically dislodged these uncomfortable realizations. We are all a constantly evolving product of our experiences, the Seeds included. Maybe.. Maybe it was not too late?

Following that hope was a dash of reality. Too late for what? To save everyone? To be the hero to all? For peace? That is for children’s fairy tales. This was real life.. And real life was messy.

You focus on the quilt in our hand, a wild idea solidifying into a determined decision.

It is said that hope can be a dangerous thing, well, apparently you are now on a mission to prove it.  

Before you could rethink your plan, you folded the quilt into a neat square, grabbed some of the brown packing paper forgotten on the kitchen floor, and deftly wrapped the package. No luck finding any tape, so improvise and adapt. You had some gauze strips and with a little ripping it would tie it closed in a pinch. Properly secured, you examined the finished product.. It was missing a calling card, something to let him know you had delivered it, knew where he was and that you could have easy access if you so chose… but what? Then it hit you. A slow smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as you leaned back into the couch, hand going for your jeans pocket. You didn’t know why you hadn’t sewn it back on yet, probably saving it as a perverse reminder of your escape. It would be the perfect nod to and  perhaps even a small dig at the man who considered himself just that “fresh” as Sharky would say.

Without a second thought you snaked a piece of gauze thread through the holes and neatly secure the small, innocuous object front and center.

Presently that tiny piece of blue plastic glinted up at you in the moonlight reminding you that yes, you were in fact enroute to one of the Seed’s compounds. Even knowing the danger you kept your pace, ducking under low hanging branches and freezing into a crouch as a twig snapped less than a klick to the west. Soundlessly your silenced P226 Amendment 2 was drawn and aimed towards the sound when you spotted a small pack of wolves stalking the vicinity. As long as lady luck kept your scent downwind you would be elusive, time to pick up the pace.

Keeping the river to your left you knew that the ranch was about an hour hike from your shelter, but that was assuming one could just waltz down the long drive and right up to the front door. You had no such luxury, so you kept to the riverbank and trees, skirting along the property line under the cover of night. You made decent time all things considered and when you found the dock you knew you had to scale the cliffs behind his home. Hmph. Good thing you took the time to wolf down that protein bar. Grappling on an empty stomach was difficult at the best of times, and grappling at night while surrounded by Peggies in various states of alert was NOT the best of times.

The cliff edge was approximately 30 feet from a side door leading into some portion of the vast building which John Seed called home. Cult members were stationed at lookout points along the four corners of the property with a small group at the front and to the sides. Right now the back was clear of patrols so you narrowed in on your destination: a patch of tall flowering plants. Pulling yourself up and over the final ridge with a soft grunt, you quickly crouched behind a nearby tree, scoping the surroundings before dashing into the midst of cover. The door was so damned close.. You unclipped the package from your waist and hefted its weight in your palm. You could throw it, but where was the personal touch in that? No, you did not come all this way pushing past exhaustion to just throw it and run. Sure the area was well lit, sure this was the home of one of the Heralds of the Collapse, but in this very moment you were foolishly unafraid. Unafraid or perhaps in some form of delirium from exhaustion.

Your suspicions spike when nary a soul comes to patrol the back door. It made no sense. The Seeds were many things, but unprepared and stupid were not one of them. Then a  certainty flitted through your subconscious:

John knows I am here.

Alright, let’s say he does. So, what do you do? Do you sit here and debate the reason why, do you leave, or do you oblige the curiosities of a man who for reasons unknown obviously has no immediate intention of capturing you? Why Sharky’s voice rang in your thoughts at that moment were unclear but damn he was right.

“Ride or Die.” you whisper.

Standing tall, equal parts foolhardy and confident, you make your way to the backdoor, eyes always forward in defiance of any possible threats. With a studied casualness you ascend the two steps to the cedar stoop, package in hand. Well, so far, so good. Glancing up you spot a red light. Mhm, of course John liked to watch.

‘Well Mr. John Seed, enjoy the show.’

Dropping to one knee, you make sure to mockingly exaggerate every movement.

“An offering to the god Maximon.” you mutter sarcastically staring at the camera stationed in the corner of the overhang. “Google it John.”

You wink, a delicious trill of excitement tugging your lips into a smirk.  Standing then, you flip him the nationwide symbol for get fucked, and waltz right back to the cliffs. Your shoulders feeling lighter, your burden moved. You would not be hunted this night.

He knew….and the ball was in his court.

As Fate would have it, John just happened to be on the ranch that night. He saw the Deputy the  moment a delicate hand grasped the cliff's edge. Little known fact, the first thing he had done when he bought this ranch was to make sure security cameras were installed to cover every single angle of his ranch. At the time it was expensive, but he knew he would not regret it and as he sat back in his chair, the black leather creaking slightly with his shifting weight, he basked in his foresight. On the screen the slender fingers flexed as a head of dark hair came into view. John did not consciously acknowledge how his breath hitched in anticipation nor did he stop to consider how he recognized Rook from something as small as that hand.

Cerulean eyes narrowed under dark brows absorbing every single muscle flex, every minute facial tick.

“Oh what do we have here Dep-ut-yyyy.. Tsk, tsk.. You can do so much better than this pitiful attempt at assassination.”  He leaned forward slowly, tapping the figure on the screen with a long, well manicured finger. “Frankly my dear, I am offended.”

Rook was crouching now, and John watched in amusement as the quick progression to the edge of the trees came to an abrupt halt. Time to debate that next move.

“Well, you certainly have my attention and curiosity…” eyes never leaving the screen, his hand closes around his radio. Switching to his personal security channel, his next order was very deliberate, “Call off all patrols for the next hour.”

A brief crackle of static, “Yes sir John sir.”

He smirked, they knew better than to question him and damned if they would defy him. He may lack Jacob’s military training, but he could command a flock through fear and charm.

“What are you up to my sinful Wrath?”

It was then he spotted a thick, square package being untied from the black leather belt slung snugly across the deputy’s hips.

“Explosives? How utterly mundane.” disappointment dripped from his words.

He watched as there was a sudden shift in the Deputy’s posture. From a crouching and tensely coiled machine arose a self-confident silhouette. No longer were the steps hurried, quiet, and cautious. In place was an arrogant stride, each step measured and calculated, and the demeanor focused on the goal ahead. Never once did eyes dart to look to the sides or behind. It was then he knew…

His... no, no, no…  THE Deputy knew he was watching.

A shiver danced up the base of his spine, eyes narrowing. A devilish smile curved his lips bringing a sudden softness to his usually intense face.

“My, my aren’t we the brave one? All alone with no sign of Nick or Sharky? An unapproved outing perhaps? Ahhh, secrets upon lies upon secrets. Your sins seem to know no bounds.”

Rook had reached the door after a quick climb up the two back steps. John braced his forearm along the desk and leaned in so close that the screen almost grazed his nose. He should have been focusing on the package, but his eyes would not leave Rook’s face.

“Show me your sin… show  me your wrath,” he whispers, almost begging.

In a surprising move, the Deputy falls to one knee and looks directly at the camera, eyes amused even through the technological barrier. Lips are pursed in a small smile, mocking and almost taunting him. The mic kicked on and he heard every single word that pretty little throat uttered.

“An offering to the god Maximon.” a soft intake of breath and … was that a fucking laugh?! “Google it John.”

The use of his name scattered any logical thought processes he may have had. Never before had Rook uttered it, not when tied to his chair, not when baptised.. The sound of it from those lips and in that voice was alarming. Equal parts dreadful and pleasing.

The package, which he had forgotten in his astonishment, was placed gently upon the deck and with a small pause, the Deputy looked back up at the camera and winked. His internal confusion mounted until, standing, he got the one finger salute. John barely caught the guffaw that was trying to escape his throat so what ended up coming out was a strained grunt.

“Ahhhh, and there it is mixed with a bit of arrogance.”

Did the Deputy think him a complete simpleton? He was an educated man. He damn well knew the legend behind the Mayan God Maximon. Obviously Rook was trying to draw some rather dramatic comparisons. John chuckled. Oh dear… Was it the sunglasses? My, how he enjoyed that little reference.

Watching the retreating form closely, John sat on the edge of his chair  until the deputy’s head disappeared down the cliff. Once gone from the screen and his property, John finally stood to his full height of 5’10”. Running an unsteady hand through his hair, he made a quick grab for the radio before turning to descend to the back door.

Who was he to shun any offerings left by his admirers?

Cracking the door he peeked down at the package. Nothing was blinking or ticking.. He reached to his side, grabbed a conveniently placed broom and poked it. Surprisingly the package gave way with the brown paper ripping slightly.

Cloth?!

“What do you have up your sleeve?”

Pushing the broom back behind him, John stepped out onto the stoop and picked up the parcel. From what he could see inside the hole it looked like some clothing perhaps? Was the Deputy affronted by his fashion sense? Pft. He was damn meticulous about his choice of clothes, he was the face of Eden’s Gate after all. This look went over well for the most part.

He began to pluck at the gauze tying the parcel closed when a small blue button caught his eye. It was securely fastened to the middle of the package demanding to be noticed and there was absolutely no need for an explanation. John immediately knew what it was. Memories of the moment that he had Rook tied to his chair, the room encased in harsh red light.... He had leaned down, his mouth saying how he wished he had more to say yes to...ripping open that blue button down shirt… buttons scattered, flesh visible to his feasting eyes, sponge cleaning the fevered skin, his eyes demanding of those before him, commanding obedience yet hoping for rebellion.. Oh he knew this little button well.

His fingers closed into a fist around the small bit of plastic, tightening his grip until its form bit into the soft flesh of his palm. He shook his head to bring him back to the present before pocketing the button. Ripping the remaining paper away, John flicked out the cloth within and studied it briefly before throwing his head back and laughing.

It was a quilt… a quilt with blue planes and clouds in squares around the outskirts, and a red and blue plane circling each other in the center. It was obviously made with a child in mind, but John was oddly pleased. Sure the quilt was juvenile, but it told him quite a lot. The Deputy had somehow noted his admiration for planes in the only way possible: by the pattern on the coat he had only worn once when they first laid eyes on one another. It seemed a lifetime ago, that moment where it all began. The fact that those observant eyes had paid special attention to him, that Rook felt the need to gift this to him… spoke of something more than wrath.

He smirked, picking up the trash and tossing the quilt over his forearm to carry inside. This quilt was sure to be an interesting piece, and hell he might even display it in a mocking way amongst his Eden’s Gate symbols and books. For the moment he tossed the quilt over the dining room table, ignoring the blinking message light on his answering machine.

Was the Deputy coming around? Doubtful, but possible.

He made a quick detour through his kitchen and into his garage where there was a toolbox with exactly what he needed. On autopilot he rummaged through the necessary drawers, pushing aside bits of metal until he located the needle nose pliers and jump rings.

Striding back into the dining room John pulled a chair out in a quick gesture. Sitting thoughtfully, eyes glazed in contemplation, he was unaware as his hand toyed with the leather thong around his neck. A quick blink and he pulled up, ducking absently as it slipped from around his neck. What he was doing, he would not fully comprehend in the moment, but it was something he desperately needed. That tiny piece of plastic burned his thigh where it rested, heavy with meaning. Tugging it from where it lay hidden, deft fingers attached the weighty piece of blue behind his bunker key.

This was.. His? John brought the leather up to his neck, and after a brief debate slipped it back over his head. The weight from the key caused the leather to fall silently back into place, its familiar shape coming to a rest against his bare chest. Where there should have been the cool bite of metal, instead burned the heat of a secret contained in the form of a small blue button. Yes, this was his. His to carry or expose as he saw fit.

The Deputy… HIS deputy, was a weight he would shoulder, a sin he would either condone, commit, or eventually excise and cleanse. The path was not clear to him yet, but he would save Wrath even if it meant dragging them bodily into salvation: bloody, kicking, and screaming.

John chuckled as his hand closed over the handheld, the soft crackle of open airwaves loud in the silence of revelation, “Patrols will resume in an hour.”

Immediately he received his enthusiastic response: “Yes sir!”

Tonight? Well, tonight he would grant reprieve.

[minimotives]

First and foremost:

I am absolutely sorry for the last blog post that you may or may not have seen if you subscribe to this blog (It’s gone now).  I was not hacked but apparently James was.  Also, apparently he was set as a contributor to this blog.  So someone hacked into his account and published some sub-par English (like I have any room to complain!) post about something or another… I am sorry to be a cruddy email in your inbox though and thank you so much for those of you who let me know so I could handle it!  It has been fixed and I’ll do my very best to not let it happen again!

Quick Recap!

So, 13 months, to the day, is how long we were on the road.  And 39,998 miles (I’d like to just round that up bat I can’t do it).  In that time we were able to hit 45 national parks (all of them in the lower 48 excluding 4 island parks accessible only by boat or plane).  We can all, including Denver, say we’ve been to 48 of the 50 states.

I did technically take a computer but it was not easy to hook it up to the internet (I attached via phone).  Then, every time I did my computer wanted to update.  So any time I wanted to write a blog post I had to basically wait 2-4 hours and hope I remembered enough to scribble it down.  As you can see, I think I wrote about 6 blog posts the whole time we were out and that was from my phone (its not easy to blog via touch pad!).  I’m sorry for that but it was a lot more fun exploring the country!!  Hopefully, if you wanted you were able to find us on Instagram where I still updated.

We left in the middle of some hot and heavy tiny house discussions and it’s pretty much been tabled the whole time we were away.  We are very happy to be back thought to finish working through the nuances and hopefully make it easier to live tiny in Idaho at least!

Before That Happens Though:

We have to find a home base.  The thought of mooching off any family while we figure it out is not appealing.  We have great tenants in our ‘real’ house and have no ambition to kick them out just so we could live there a little while.  We can’t occupy the tiny house. Short term (or long term) rentals are astronomical in Boise right now. (Click here for a special link to Yahoo about our hometown)

This left us with one logical answer.  When James moved in to the tiny he never fully downsized.  He just kind of put his things in boxes and then built a basic, detached garage for his ‘real house’, then stored all of his stuff in there.  So we’re converting that garage into some temporary housing for our family of four!

Our Anniversary

We didn’t just end our trip 13 months to the day after take off, we also ended it one our anniversary.  Every year we take a family photo in front of our home as a snapshot of the year.  I am glad to get another picture with ‘Lil Beastie! (our camper).  Here are our anniversary photos to date, I wonder what next year’s will look like! ha!

We lead a pretty cool life, I am so glad I, on a whim, started taking these pictures!

Year six, can you believe we were on the same vacation as the picture taken one year earlier! 🙂

Year Five, new home on wheels for a while

Year four, no new family members!, yea!

Year three, Miles is just about done cooking!

Year two, surprise baby Hazel!

Year one, the day Denver came to live with us!

First date – who even gets this picture??

Now The Downsizing Begins Again!

James has been hardcore into the real downsizing efforts.  A year on the road has been pretty eye opening for both of us on what we really need (spoiler: less than what we currently own!).  Honestly, I have cleared the tiny house of several truck loads of stuff!  Our kids have grown up in a year and they really don’t need all the baby stuff we had.  James has gone through box upon box.  We’ve taken two truck loads to the dump, were planning a yard sale for anything else.  Whatever doesn’t sell will be donated to start a new life elsewhere.  Hazel and Miles have been going through all their stuff, they are excited to earn money from their toys AND plan on hosting a lemonade stand for cool refreshments.  I absolutely cannot believe the amount of STUFF we have accumulated in our tiny little places!

Building Anew!

After this weekend we really get going!  We will be adding a kitchen, a custom playhouse/fort for the kids, and doing all those little projects that take a garage to a home for a family of four and their dog!  I will try to do updates because its totally relevant to ‘tiny homes’ and living in small spaces.  Sometimes Instagram is just easier for me because it’s quicker (and can be done from my phone).  I will definitely update on the legalities once that conversation gets going too.  I am happy to be back and ready to rock this world again!  In the mean time here are some of my favorite pictures of our adventures!

Also, this is not the end of our travels, we absolutely plan to make it to those four parks we skipped and are already planning our trip to Alaska (my last state) for next summer followed by celebrating James’s 40th birthday next fall in Hawaii!  We should be able to see all these amazing National Parks before too long!

Oh, P.S.

Our cat is mad we are back.  Did you know we had a cat? It’s probably because I am a dog person ;-).

He misses his bachelors pad and all the fancy parties he used to throw! While we were away we had an RFID cat door programmed to his microchip so that he could enter and exit the house at will (but nothing else could).  We set up a camera pointed at his food so we could make sure he was alive and eating.  Any time the food got low we would order another bag from Amazon and have James’s sister or mom run over and fill his dish.  Pretty sure he enjoyed that set up a whole lot more than he enjoys our company!

The Pictures

Tetons NP

Washingtons Peninsula

Cascade NP

Mt. Rainier NP

The Oregon Coast

Crater Lake NP

Redwoods NP

Patricks Point, CA

Everglades NP

Bug watching, She is the best at finding lizards, frogs and catipilars

Bryce Canyon NP

Death Valley NP

Suguaro NP

Florida dog beach

Grand Canyon NP

Yosemite NP

California Free Camping

Zion NP

Zion Hike

Utah Farm

Mesa Verde NP

Black Canyon of the Gunnison NP

The dop of the highest sand dune in North America, Great Sand dune NP

Petrified Forest/Painted Dessert NP

Painted Desert NP

Spring in Death Valley NP

Death Valley

Death Valley Dunes

Joshua Tree NP

Saguaro NP

White Sands NM

White Sands NM

Big Bend NP

One of MANY awesome aquariums (this one is in Mississippi)

Mardi Gras Parade in New Orleans!

Cocoa Beach with Poppy

Furthest South Point in the US

Disney’s Animal Kingdom

Disneys Magic Kingdom

Florida

North Carolina

Playgrounds across America!

Mammoth Cave NP

Smokey Mountain NP

Random Virginia picture (such a pretty state!!)

Shanendoah NP

Shanandoah NP

West Virginia

Washington DC

Wild ponies!!

Birthday Boy in Maine

Furthest east point in the US

Denver could not contain himself around that much water!

thousand Island area in New York

Hot springs

Sibling bonding

Denver got a lot of this!

He learned to fake his first smile and I caught it on camera!

Sand dunes in Michigan

Teddy Roosevelt NP

National Grasslands

Idaho is kinda pretty too 🙂

Learning new tricks

Glacier NP

Teton NP

Mt. Rushmore

Badlands NP

Rocky Mountain NP

Happy Campers!

Colorado bonding

Great Salt Lake

Spiral Jetty, UT

Great Salt Lake

AND… We’re Back! First and foremost: I am absolutely sorry for the last blog post that you may or may not have seen if you subscribe to this blog (It's gone now). 

[thehikingnerd]

Day 115 (9/9).

I woke up at 6:30am because it was so hot in the room. I hadn’t noticed there was a box fan in the room, and I wish I would have used it. But given that it was hot and I was already awake, I went out to get coffee and use the bathroom. I wanted to go into the breakfast buffet as soon as they opened to get the most out of it and to take my time. When I walked up to the dining area entrance I saw Milestone and then Dixie also rolled up. We all went in as soon as they opened, and made several round. It was a little expensive but worth the splurge and calorie load. I ate everything I possibly could and completely stuffed myself. I talked some with Milestone and Dixie over breakfast and we shared our various thoughts on how to move forward with so many obstacles still ahead. It was sad that the fires had broken up our solid as a rock trail family that we had going through the Sierras, but we had different ideas of what a purist thru-hike meant. At least no one was left alone, and I was happy to have Butt’rs share my continuous foot path philosophy. After breakfast I got ready, and Butt’rs and I finally left out about 11:30am. But before we left, we had to stop and take some pics of the lodge as well as some fun shots with an ax that has “Here’s Johnny” written on the handle that they keep handy for people to use as a prop for “The Shining” photos. So of course Butt’rs and I held up the ax and tried to look as crazy as we could for the pics J It was a beautiful cool day. I thought about how just a little while back Angie and I were at the Japanese garden in Portland looking at Mt. Hood off in the distance… right where I was now hiking. I took a lunch break at what should have been the 2100 mile marker, but after looking around quite a bit and not being able to find one, I just did what I had become accustomed to and made my own mile marker again. We played leap frog with Milestone and her BF, Scott, passing each other on our breaks. At one point she had told us to take the Ramona Falls alternate.  It sounded pretty nice and we figured we’d take the advice and check it out. We saw Perk pass by going sobo, and then Dixie a short time later following behind him. It was weird seeing all the friends I had just stayed with the night before scattered all over Mt. Hood and going in different directions. They had devised this plan so that they could all hike the open last bit of trail and conveniently all get Milestone’s BF to drive them around to the other side of the fire closure. So Perk and Dixie drove his car to the other side of the mountain where the trail was closed, parked, and hiked back toward the lodge and handing off the keys on the trail and they would all rendezvous back at a point on the PCT at the base of the mountain. Complicated but made sense. The alternate route was amazing: there was a pretty waterfall followed by green, mossy, rolling mounds alongside a small stream that ran along the trail. There was even a tall cliff like a giant stone wall making it feel like some kind of corridor. This was followed by pretty a good climb and then a quick descent to Lolo Pass Rd. By the time I got there Milestone, Scott, and Butt'rs were all having a beer and pointed to show me that the road we planned to take was closed. I was handed a beer and after some debate as to whether we should just hike the road anyway, and just risk potentially getting in trouble if caught… we finally just decided to get a ride back with Milestone and walk to where the PCT crosses Hwy 35, and just road walk to Hood River tomorrow. I might have been disappointed in the loss of a day, but it was a really beautiful hike, and we got to see our other friends for one last day (as we would likely not see them again for the rest of the trail). As we pulled out of the parking spot just as it was getting dark and started down the road, we saw a huge gray owl on the side of the road.  It was a pretty awesome sight to see. Driving back around the mountain we stopped and got some DQ and then they dropped us off at the camping area where we talked to the old guy the day before. There was a light mist falling down so we set up our tents and rain flies, utilizing the headlights from the car, and went to sleep while Milestone and Scott waited to on Dixie and Perk to meet them there.

[megathethirdfork]

In The Eyes of My Toddler Down A Wooded Path

In the Eyes of My Toddler Down A Wooded Path

I am a very proud, new dad. Mine came later in life, however. At 44, when my toddler was born, l was reminded my father had already had my elder sister, brother and me at this point and we were much further in life at what would have been my age.  l felt a bit old for the high school dance, so to speak. 

When my second boy was born four months ago, my looks began to match the exhaustion and wear and tear I felt inside. That afternoon, as l took my two year old for a walk in the woods behind our house, it was, in part, to get some work out for my woefully under-exercised, overweight body; and, to get him to run and yell as much as he liked—without my constant admonishment otherwise in our home.  

As we began to roll-on down the hill into our little path in the woods, we imagined we were a choo-choo train coming down a mountain, which is a scene in a book we read often (The Little Engine That Could). Along the way, we met another dad walking a dog, which, of course, was cause to stay a while and pet the fluffy creature. As we approached, the dog was slightly more friendly towards my son but began making a low growl towards me. I almost asked if the dog doesn't like bigger black men. But l kept it neutral and asked, "does he not like taller men?" The man seemed a bit embarrassed as he tried to get the dog to behave, so to avoid further discomfort, l quickly thanked him and continued our choo choo down towards our path in the woods.  After several stops to take a closer look at a creek that is getting more forceful now that its winter, and a scientific observation of frogs and tadpoles, which are always awesome to examine along with my son, while feigning a startle for every creak and rustle in the quiet of the path, we arrived at a dead-end. We made a left on the T to continue our stroll deeper into the woods.  Behind us, coming from the right side, we could hear a white family, parents along with their older boy (relative to my little one, of course) and younger girl, making their way back up towards where we came from.  Normally, if l am alone on that path, l would make an extra effort to be friendly towards people, especially if they are white.  At 6 feet tall and over 250lb, I am keenly aware that my appearance may come across as threatening to some. If l was a smaller person or of the opposite sex, l would avoid me, too, l often thought. 

Contrary to me, my wife to this day hates going into those woods even with me next to her. If there is a hint of grey clouds in a wooded area, her mind is constantly fighting the worst thought about her surroundings. The possibility of night creeping in the woods is almost a full-blown anxiety event for her.  So, l am aware of this intrinsic fear that others have as l have heard it described often enough by my wife. Combined with what l have come to learn from her and my own experience as a black man who loves the outdoors, l have come to the conclusion long ago that most people are a bit wary when they find another person on a quite trail, especially if they're alone. They are even more wary when that person happens to be black (unless, of course they're black, too, a rare occasion in most trails, sadly). It goes downhill from there when that person appears to be pushing the upper limits of "big."  Without knowing it, over the years I have adopted a certain protocol so as not to raise a flag of the other person(s) on a trail. No sudden moves while they're close. Try to walk on the other side, furthest away from them (some trails are so narrow, this is almost impossible). Last, always say hello or acknowledge something about them, like their dog, kids...etc. The hopeful message in that endeavor: Nothing to fear here.  On a hike in Pennsylvania, Rickets Glenn, an otherwise gorgeous trail full of waterfalls with a bucolic scenery, the above protocol failed miserably as virtually every person we said hello to on that trail either tried very hard not to acknowledge our existence or straight out ignored our greetings while looking at us dead faced. The few who responded seemed highly uncomfortable and almost whispered their greetings back. I felt the catharsis of not caring when l decided not to bother for the rest of the hike.  When l heard the white family coming from the other side to my right on that dead-end, l was happy to know we weren't going to cross paths. No need for my protocol, l thought. 

(These considerations are completely superfluous with my son in tow as he broadcasts the complete opposite message. With him around l get smiles, hellos or warm greeting.  There is always the older lady who wants to caress my kids curls or comment on his long eyelashes, which is a point of conversation for most women who stop to look at him.) 

Still, l was happy for us to be on our way without having to deal with these niceties. 

My son, though, had another agenda. 

Seeing the family, he lost complete interest in our walk.  Like a dog whose ears are perked up when he hears rustling in the woods, he stopped his frog-like bounce and began to quietly observe this new, interesting interruption behind us. I could almost hear his thoughts:  "Hmm. This running and yelling at the top of my lungs and frolicking in the woods with Dada is great but over their l see kids older than me who l can play with. Let's go make some new friends! Woo hoo!" Without any warning, he began to yell at the top of his lungs, "Stop! My dad and l want to come and play with you! Wait up! We're coming!" What came out of his mouth, instead, was a shrill "Da doo!  Doooooo!"   Even though the family had moved up much further than us at this point, it was clear to them this little tyke was interacting with them. They stopped and waived, thinking that would stop my son's protestations.  Nope. That wasn't enough. He wanted to catch up to them, so he began hustling up the path, barking his baby-talk, while l tried to keep up some steps back.  The family, now understanding he's clearly trying to get their attention, politely began to waive back and slowed down their walk.  As soon as Matty caught up to them up the hill, he made a bee line and collapsed while hugging their son, cooing and laughing while doing so as if he’d known him for years, which had the whole family laughing at this surprising turn of events.  Their boy hugged my son back and they were already old friends in the thirty seconds it took for me to catch up.  Grinning sheepishly l shook hands with the father first, who also matched my expression.   "What a sweet boy," he said. "Thank you, " l replied, as l introduced myself, while telling the family my son's name.  I explained l don't want him to fear new people, at least not yet. There is always time later to break the news about interactions with strangers. The father eagerly agreed with that philosophy.  My boy's vocabulary is a total of 80 or so words, which doesn't include his full, first name.  "We call him Matty, l said, short for Matthias.  He can say Matty but when he meets new people, he's often too distracted because there are so many things he wants to say." I told their son 'Gabe' that he shares my best friend's name. The daughter, a very precocious six-year-old said, "he's adorable. But l think he likes Gabe more than me." I told her that boys look for other boys to play with at that age.  But my preference was to have a girl as my first child. "Gabe wanted a little brother, too," she replied. "Don't worry, he will learn to cherish you as he gets older," l said.  Because we were now walking back in the same direction as where we came, we were all compelled to walk at the pace of Gabe and Matty, and the discoveries they were making along the way. There was no point in walking away from one another; we were now locked into walking the rest of the path together.  I struck a conversation with the mother asking if they lived in the area. They do but they moved from Florida a few years back, from the gulf side. I told them l saw a shark there once but when l told folks on the beach, they didn't seem too concerned. Both parents chuckled and agreed that is probably how that news would be received there. I asked if they were from Florida originally. She said she was "from all over" but was born in Kansas. "Ah! My wife went to KU," l said. "I did, too," she exclaimed.  "What a small world, " we both mused. Though University of Kansas is a big school, the chances of meeting someone who attended this Midwestern university in a bedroom community of the nation's capital is rare, especially on that trail that day (I am not sure why University of Kansas is called KU as opposed to UK).  By the time we reached the opening of the trail, our sons were bonded, Gabe patiently indulging my son's feeble attempts to befriend him with his gibberish; the daughter, who, according to the parents, was complaining of her feet hurting shortly before we joined them, had completely forgotten about it, cheerfully jaunting along with us; and the parents and l had bonded on the challenges of lack of sleep, the monotony of our lives after having had children and other, shared banalities that are universal to middle class parents raising a family in the US.  The mother, noting that we just had another boy four month ago, and probably seeing the circles around my eyes, kindly looked into me and said, "it will get better when they begin to speak. Communication is wonderful." I agreed. I stated my yearning for the day when l can get to speak to them both freely and be understood.  As we began to leave the woods, my son suddenly took off to trek up the choo choo hill we climbed down earlier. I abruptly apologized to the family and followed him, and once l held him in my arms, we both turned and waived a heartfelt goodbye to all of them.  As l was entering our complex with my son sitting in his favorite position on my shoulder, with his hands beating my head like a drum, something my dad used to do for me on long walks around our home in Ethiopia, the family passed by in their car. Both kids waived. I heard the daughter yell, "bye Matty!" Take my toddler out of the equation that afternoon, and what would have transpired would have been my "trail protocol," a careful choreography of staying as far away from each other as possible. Ships passing in the night. And in this day and age, when we are all so bifurcated along virtually every category possible, sliced and diced into our corners of society like chopped onions sitting in a Tupperware of a fridge, it was a welcome respite to have a delightful time off from it all and actually be compelled to meet "the others."

[watermonkey0]

Winter Heat

4th Point of Contact -- “Winter Heat” -- Do Kyungsoo x Harper Hasagawa

“I really don’t see this going anywhere.” I stated, bored. Tinker, halfway through a sip of his drink, slid his eyes up to me wearily. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen this coming. The words were plainly highlighted in every movement of my body. My whole being screamed ‘NEVERGONNAHAPPEN’. I was only at this table in this tiny café to appease my persistent as hell mother, and he knew that.

“Is that why you insisted we meet here?” He set his cup down, and I saw the effort it took to do so quietly. He was frustrated, sure. But why was that my problem? I’d been upfront about not wanting to date, but he just had to drag it out, had to push all the buttons just to make sure—even the one labeled ‘self-destruct’. Although my lack of interest in him was not why I chose this overpriced coffee joint. I had been strategic in my planning, up until the end. The boys were performing just a few hundred yards away in the auditorium on live television, the Christmas special no less.

But I wasn’t going to tell him that. I mean, I’m sure he knew it already, but I wasn’t going to be that cruel…at least for the moment. Tinker had graciously met me in the café sponsored by JTBC. It was small and crowded, but decked out in wooden tile and frosted glass. There was a twinkling Christmas tree in the corner by the counter, each ornament the face of another idol they’d hosted on their show. While we were ordering, Tinker had commented on how they had the same face multiple times, but I didn’t have the balls to tell him there were no doubles, he just couldn’t tell them apart.

Instead of answering his assumption, I shrugged it away. Hopefully, this would be over and done with soon. He would go back to Camp Market and bitch to his whole platoon about how Sergeant had a Korean stick shoved up her ass these days, but I would finally be able to go back to SM in peace.

“You know, your mom told me something interesting while I was at the dorms earlier.” He continued absently, tracing the water ring on the table from his cup.

“What’s that?” I took his bait, figuring it would be harmless.

“That there’s a time and a place for everything. And if you miss your chance…it might never pop up again.” He wouldn’t meet my gaze as he recited something I’m sure my mother stole from the morning astrology article. But as much as it seemed like something she would say, it also didn’t exactly go hand in hand with her master plan.

Sure, Tinker and I may have caught the feels in high school. But that was a lifetime ago. It seemed impossible that he could still harbor any hope that the old fire would spark with just a few touches and a catchy dance number. Or was he really that desperate? There was more than one type of desperation: the need for anyone, or the need for someone. I didn’t want to prod into which category he fell under, for fear of his answer. Whether or not he loved me was not going to change my mind about loving him.

“Sounds about right.” I mumbled and took a long sip of my juice.

“Do you think…that maybe we…we missed our chance?” He eked out the question like it physically pained him to do so.

“Yes.” I answered automatically.

“But you’re not even willing to try?” His tone was begging and put me more on edge than I already was. I didn’t do well with people who refused to see reason.

“Tinker—” I tried to suppress my eye roll, but he must have caught it, because his next words came out in a gush.

“Look, I get losing someone so close to you is hard, but—”

“Someone close to me?” I barked, and he paused mid word. “Are you a fucking idiot?” I asked next. Seriously, I could not fathom the extent to which he wanted to get laid, that he would resort to downgrading my tragedy to hard. He went to speak but I silenced him by slamming my cup down on the table. There was a squirt and a splash, but I didn’t care who was looking now. “You think losing the love of my life was just hard?”

‘Love of my life’ seemed to jab him in the chest with each syllable. In what world would he think I’d reserved the title for him after all these years? “Let me give you a snapshot of how hard it was: the day I found out he was gone was also the day they wanted to promote me. Like, ‘Cool, her only reason for not accepting is gone, let’s go ahead with the paperwork’.” My arms were flailing and he was shrinking back in his seat. “I went through every stage of grief every hour for days until his body was finally brought home. They laid him at my feet like some sort of offering and then expected me to be thankful. I screamed at them, I damned them all to hell. And then I threw up. Over and over again until there was nothing left, because everything I ever was, every dream I ever had was in a fucking body bag.”

My voice dropped to a hiss, and I could tell I was scaring him by the bead of sweat forming above his eyebrow.

“After that, I…” I hiccupped as an unexpected sob lodged in the back of my throat.

This was going too far, wasn’t it? I didn’t have to explain myself to him. I didn’t have to make him understand why I was here, or what kind of meaning my life had taken on after the incident. He was Tinker, the boy who I shared my first kiss with. The boy who held my hand to dance at prom, but also when he begged me not to enlist. All he ever wanted was for me to stay with him.

I guess it finally made sense. We were both stuck in the same rut. The rut of unrequited or absent love. Kosei was gone and I was gone, and there was not enough comfort to go around to calm either of our fears. “After that, I lost my way for a long time.” I took my foot off the gas. Coasting to the end would probably be more effective than dicing him to bits. I could live in this ditch alone, I had been for over a year now. Tinker on the other hand, he just needed a boost. I could give him a lift…for old time’s sake.

“Look, Tinker.” I dragged my fingers through my hair, snagging on every tangle and relishing the twinge on my scalp. It cleared the hazy cloud in my mind and I swallowed the frog. His face was more reserved now, like he didn’t know what to do, he just knew he didn’t want to incur my wrath a second time. I sighed. “Let me help you out.”

“What?”

“There is someone out there who was made to love you. I’m sure that person changes, switching between who you need or want at the time. I was your ‘someone’ back when we were young and dumb, when neither of us knew what was going on. But now…

Now it’s someone else.” He eyed me for a long minute, running his tongue over his front teeth.

“Why do you think that?” He shucked his teeth so hard I thought he might swallow one.

“Because it’s true.” I groaned tiredly. “Please, please just…let yourself give up.” My tone was the one that was begging now.

“I’m a Marine,” He stated resolutely, “Marines don’t back down.” He lifted his head defiantly, thinking he’d snared me in our shared occupation.

“Marines know when to retreat.” I shot back.

“Only to regroup and replan.”

“No, Tinker…” I pushed my fingers into my temples, hoping that the stars I was seeing were from a migraine and not the desperation rolling off him in waves. “A Marine understands the price of failure is lives lost. We understand this so we can spot a lost cause when we see one. Not every battle is supposed to be fought with force. You’re supposed to think on your feet, but your rigidity is exactly what makes you unfit.” He paled at my words, and even I did a mental reign check.

Damn, Harper. I thought we weren’t being cruel.

“I didn’t—” I tried to recant, at least the last bit. It wasn’t anywhere near my right to call him unfit. But before I could say anything else I would regret, he jumped to his feet, his whole body humming with barely controlled anger. The back of his knees smacked against his chair, sending it skidding away, and drawing every eye in the café directly to us.

“I understand that you don’t want me to love you…but you didn’t have to make me hate you.” His words whipped at my heart, and I buckled under their severity.

“I’m sorry,” was all I could manage, and it was all I could say even after he stormed out. There was nothing else, no other words. I tried, I tried so hard to persuade him, to talk him down from the edge of absolute abandon.

But that was too far in the opposite direction. He was right. I shouldn’t have questioned his commitment to the corps just because I wanted him to question his commitment to me. Tinker was never the issue.

I was the one who was broken. I was the one who refused to let myself mend.

But surely there was something to be said that I knew exactly what was fractured…it was just that I liked it where it was, and I didn’t want it to go anywhere.

A big screen TV on the wall played the live broadcast of what was happening in the studio, and I stared at the faces of my boys blankly. Here I was judging Tinker, when I couldn’t even tell them the truth. The nine boys who, for better or worse, gave my life literal meaning, and I couldn’t bring myself to show them my scabbed over heart. Because who knew what they would think of it.

“Our next segment is ‘Jingles for the Tree’.” The MC announced happily, waving his note cards around for everyone to see. “For this, each talented man of EXO will perform a short song for a loved one.” The boys smiled and bowed good naturedly before getting up and moving to their rehearsed positions. They were going in order of age apparently, because Minseok skipped up to the standing mic with that cat like grin of his.

And he sang to his cat.

That animal was a demon, and I’d told him this on many occasions, but dammit if he didn’t love that fuzzball.

Junmyeon sauntered up next, flashing his best dad smile. I had to stop myself from snorting in public when I saw his pants were hiked up, like he was trying to look every bit of the nerd he was. He sang Silent Night, despite it not being his religion or his holiday.

Yixing tiptoed up to the mic, looking more nervous than I’d ever seen him on a stage. I knew why the instant the music started playing, though. A Latin guitar flair lilted through the speakers and I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped me. Somewhere in that auditorium, Cat was feasting her eyes on a Spanish singing Korean, and I bet lots and lots of money that it was going to pay off well in his favor tonight.

Baekhyun was up next, but instead of standing in front of the mic, he sat himself at the baby grand that was rolled out just for him. He didn’t even sing, but as I watched his fingers fly over the keys, it hardly took away from the performance. In fact, if there had been words, I wouldn’t have noticed them. His face, usually smiley and warm, was struck with such concentration that I leaned forward in my chair.

I wanted to know what this piece was. I wanted to know who he was playing for with such conviction. I thought I knew Baek like I knew the backside of my hand (mainly because I’d slapped him with it so many times). But, as far as I knew, there wasn’t a single person who garnered this kind of concentration from him. Well…there was one, but…surely it wasn’t Taeyeon?

Jongdae destroyed everyone with a solo he’d pulled out of thin air. Seriously, I had been with him all week and he had not practiced that masterpiece once. With his eyes closed, and his hands fluttering through the air, I knew he was winning over every girl in the audience. The song was about love, but it was tentative and barely blossomed, kind of like him. Something to be cherished, something to be nurtured. Poor, baby, loud, wonderful Jongdae. I told myself that I would hug him after this. Chen hugs were the best, especially now that I was out of juice and burning bridges left and right. Although, I guess I needed Suho for that…whatever.

I really expected Chanyeol to tackle the mic and leap into a string of half-Korean, half-English, half-Mandarin rap, but he surprised me by grabbing his guitar and following Kyungsoo up to the mic. They were doing a duet? That probably wasn’t in the rules, but judging by the screams I could hear just by sitting in the café, no one cared. The giraffe climbed into a stool and lovingly balanced the acoustic Takamine on his knee, pulling a pick from between the strings. He took it between his teeth for a moment before glancing up at the camera through his long eyelashes, making the crowd near riot.

What a lady killer.

Kyungsoo stood behind the mic, his usual stoic stance brimming with something more…ecstatic. I saw him bob on the balls of his feet before he planted them and rubbed his hands together. If it were me, I would say he looked jittery, god forbid nervous. But this was D.O., the self-proclaimed pillar of confidence, he’d been on a stage since he was eight years old. Why was it that Christmas suddenly had him cautious?

Chanyeol finally pulled the damn pick from his mouth and strummed the first chord of the song. It was a short staccato melody, upbeat and light, and one I knew instantly. My jaw nearly hit the floor when Satansoo, badass, ‘imma-pretend-to-be-blind’, stoic panty slayer of EXO…started to sing ‘Dear Evan Hansen’ in perfect English.

“He thought you looked really pretty—err, it looked pretty cool when you put indigo streaks in your hair.” Soo grinned sheepishly and the crowd went wild.

“He did?” Chanyeol chimed in with the female part and I thought the other boys were going to lose their minds.

“And he wondered how you learned to dance like all the rest of the world isn’t there.

But he kept it all inside his head. What he saw, he left unsaid.

If I could tell her, tell her everything I see

If I could tell her, how she’s everything to me

But were a million worlds apart, and I don’t know how I would even start…if I could tell her.”

I was up and out of the café as fast as Channie was plucking his strings. Every vibration thrummed through my bones as my feet carried me closer and closer to the auditorium. I broke into a flat out run as the hallway seemed to stretch on forever. Just before the double doors at the end of the hall, in an alcove to the right, a delicately bronzed arm shot out, holding a stage badge. I didn’t miss a beat as I dashed by, grabbing the pass from Cat.

Of all the mysteries of the universe, I would never understand how she always knew exactly where to be at every right time. Maybe she just knew me that well, or knew what Kyungsoo had been planning, but either way, she’d given me exactly what I needed in the most nondescript way possible.  

“If I could tell her…but what do you do when there’s this great divide?

And what do you do when the distance is too wide?”

One could say that I threw open the double doors much too noisily for a live broadcast, but any backlash I would have gotten from stage hands was silenced when they saw who I was. The doors opened to the top of the auditorium steps and I dashed over to the middle row, directly in front of the standing mic, and that infuriatingly adorable penguin.

“How do you say, I love you…” His voice that was usually so low and comforting, was climbing higher and higher as I plodded my way down the stairs.

“I love you.”

“I love you!” His words were growing stronger and stronger, declaring something I didn’t dare recognize. Hands raised, face eager, energy buzzing in all directions. The air was sizzling with his declaration. He loved her, he loved her, that lucky girl…

“I love you…” Finally, his last avowal died on his lips as our eyes met. I stood in the middle of the stairs, half way to the floor, my mouth probably hanging open in awe and my hands hanging limply at my sides. Where did he get off singing like that when he knew that was my favorite play? What sort of gall did he have to yell over and over that he loved someone and then look directly at me…

And not look away…

Chanyeol strummed the beginning of the final coda, but Kyungsoo was still. My brows scrunched together as I watched Channie pluck through the intro again, almost like he knew that was going to happen. Like he knew D fucking O was going to miss his count in.

I held my breath, not knowing why, but thinking if I didn’t, I was going to pass out then and there. He was just looking at me; those big brown eyes roaming over every inch from top to bottom. I hated how it made me feel, but knew I was also lying to myself. I wanted him to keep looking, to see me, to see everything.

He already knew the truth. He was the only one. He saw the scabs and scars and although rough around the edges, he never threw me away.

Chanyeol reached the coda again, and this time, Kyungsoo’s heart shaped lips delivered the rest of the story, the end of the pledge:

“But were a million worlds apart, and I don’t know how I would even start

If I could tell her

If I could…”

My butt hit the stairs before I realized that I needed to sit down, and while I was sinking into those eyes, everyone else was jumping to their feet, roaring with applause. The MC called for a commercial and half of me wondered if it was because they caught my hideously startled face on camera and had to edit it out. And then reality hit:

“Hasa, get up.” Cat’s hand was under my arm, pulling me to my feet when all I could do was stare at the empty space Kyungsoo had left. He’d bowed to the inconsolable audience and then joined his brothers on the couch like it was nothing…like he hadn’t even looked in the first place. Cat’s grip was firm as she dragged me back up the steps and back out the double doors. The white walls and white floor were so different from the warm red lights of the stage, that I thought for a moment that I had gone unexpectedly blind from returning his gaze so adamantly. The hallway was cold and antiseptic, brewing up a knot in the bottom of my stomach.

“That was a bit much, don’t you think?” Cat muttered under her breath, watching me out of the corner of her eye. She was wondering why I’d dropped to my knees like I was in church. But I couldn’t help it when confronted with the altar of Kyungsoo. Christ, right then, I felt like I would throw myself down there again and beg for salvation…but Cat was not above cleansing me with Holy Water she’d get from a fountain down the hall.

“Sorry,” I swallowed instead and rubbed my hands over my face, “I just…got into a fight with Tinker, and that,” I motioned back towards the auditorium where I could hear Kai’s dance solo going on, “was really unexpected.” Cat squinted at me and I tried my hardest to look at least a little genuine.

“What did the camo puppy say?” She finally asked, and I let out a sigh in relief when I knew she’d dropped it.

“The camo puppy couldn’t get a word in edge wise because I was too busy destroying him.” I groaned, starting to pace the width of the hall.

“And?” Cat crossed her arms.

“And that’s bad.” I blurted. Thank you captain obvious.

“Psh, if he can’t handle a little ass chewing, how is he a Marine?” She shrugged away my argument.

“This wasn’t an ass chewing. I literally…It was really fucked up.” I rubbed my face again, recalling how unnecessary I had been, just how cruel I was. It really hadn’t been my intention, but sometimes I just couldn’t stop myself. My mother would say it’s because I’ve been away from the good-old fashioned southern charm for too long, which was ‘Mother trying not to be racist’ speak for: you’ve been in Asia too long.

“Whatever you said to him was probably what he needed to hear. I’ve known you for a while now Hasa, and you may sugar coat yourself most of the time, but I’ve never seen you not rise to the occasion. If he was butt hurt by what you said, than he needed a good spanking.” Cat avoided my gaze, looking all around my head so she wouldn’t have to see the surprise on my face. She never ever talked like that. Our mutual respect was almost entirely unspoken, always had been. I guess this time she was really trying to cheer me up. Or maybe she’d been in Asia too long as well.

“It just really…wasn’t fair.” I deflated, not wanting to take away from her tentative comfort, but still feeling pretty awful about it all.

“Life’s not fair. Big hairy deal!” She scoffed. “Tell him to come find me, we can compare notes on how wonderful life has treated us.”

“SM?” A stage hand poked their head through the double doors, clinking their headset on the door handle.

“Yes.” I responded automatically.

“Five minutes.” The man said and then disappeared back through the doors.

“I’ll meet you in the van.” I sighed, semi thankful for the interruption. Cat bowed out as well, although she had every right to continue.

“Try not to get shot this time.” She sneered and then disappeared through the doors as well.

Shots fired.

I curled my knees up to my chest in the front seat of the passenger van. Cat had wrangled the boys and escorted them out, all without me. We figured we would just let them assume whatever ‘plans’ that had kept me from the performance had occupied me the whole time. Although there was at least one person who knew that was a lie. Rain was starting to tink on the windshield as we pulled away from the curb into the flow of traffic, but I hardly noticed. The boys were talking excitedly about how the show had gone and about who had the biggest applause. Most said Baek because people hardly ever got to see him play, but the same could be said for Chanyeol, which brought up the duet.

I tried to make myself smaller, less conspicuous. Maybe if he didn’t notice I was there, he wouldn’t look at me again. If I could just avoid those eyes of his, everything would be okay, it would all go back to normal.

God, why did I bother trying to lie to myself anymore?

“Hey Hasa,” Junmyeon suddenly called me out and I physically flinched into the leather seat. The driver gave me a concerned look, but I waved it away.

“Hm?” I grunted in response, not wanting to commit to the conversation by leaning around the chair to look at them.

“How was your date?” There was laughter in his voice, a pleasant tease between friends. No one had told them it was a date, but they had all been there when Tinker asked me, and when my mother had proposed it. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to put all the pieces together. I mean, come on, when was the last time I asked for a personal day or did anything that didn’t involve them?

Yeah, like, never.

I pursed my lips together and debated my answer. Do I brush it all off, say ‘it was fine’ and end it there? Or should I tell some of the truth? Say ‘it was crappy, 2/10 would not recommend’. A snickery hush fell over the van as they waited for my answer, and a part of me (much larger than I was willing to admit) really wanted to know if a particular penguin was sitting on the edge of his seat, hanging on the breath of every word. I wanted to twist around and gaze at him, dive into those pools of chocolate and tell him everything that had gone through my heart when he’d stared at me, but…

“It wasn’t a date.” I heard myself mumble. There hadn’t really been an third option, but that’s apparently what came out of my mouth.

“Oh, come on.” Suho chuckled, joined by the other boys. They were a pack of kindergarteners, picking on a little girl with a crush. “He seemed like he liked—“

“It’s not really a date if one of them leaves crying.” Cat’s voice cut through the van like a knife, and I willed myself to be eaten by my chair. Dear god please, let the suede swallow me whole, because I knew if I looked back now, I would see their faces, and know exactly what they thought of me.

So I didn’t look back. I hugged my legs tighter and rested my forehead on my knees. If we got into a car accident, I would definitely die, but at this point, that might be more welcome than anything else karma had in store for me today.

“Did he make you cry?” Jongin asked quietly after the van had been silent for too long, “Because we can beat him up for you.” There were small encouragements hidden under his question, and I scoffed at the rain. Nine to one…those were definitely corps odds.

“No…” I sighed, somehow strangely okay with it, “I wasn’t the one who cried.”

Maybe it was because, despite the pause, the first question they asked was in my defense. Weirdly, it was funny to me that they would even propose that I could cry. My own brother once accused me of not having tear ducts. Maybe I liked that they didn’t see me like that, like I was still a girl in their eyes.

Damn, I hadn’t been just a girl in years.

Kyungsoo sat in the back row of the van, squished between Chanyeol and Jongdae. He stared at the headrest of the passenger seat like he could set it on fire with just his gaze. Apparently no one else could hear it. D.O. hadn’t caught it, too busy burning off the stage high, but Kyungsoo saw it. All he could see of her was a toe that poked out to the side and the curve of her scalp over the seat, but he heard it: inside the shell of the Marine that waved off their concern and redirected the conversation, was a sad little girl, hugging her knees.

And she was sobbing.

He could see it there, right underneath the surface of her skin as she hopped out of the van once they’d returned to SM. Or in how she gingerly took the stairs two at a time, like she was trying too hard to make them believe she was fine. Her armor was thick, he knew, but he could still hear her in the back of his head as she smiled at his chest, since she refused to meet his eye.

He was perfectly fine with Tinker being gone. That asshole could drown in the Han River for all he cared, but damn it all…whatever fight they’d had ruined all his plans.

Although, they weren’t actual plans. If he called them plans, that meant he thought about it before hand, and if he had…he wouldn’t have done it. Calling it a plan would mean that he might have pestered Chanyeol about it for a week, sending him cord chart after cord chart until he stormed into Kyungsoo’s room with a guitar and a brazen look. Plans would mean that he had a hope for what would happen after he literally confessed in front of the world.

Or was that called an expectation?

[rjzimmerman]

This essay hits home for me. My wife has nurtured several gardens in our yard, almost all of them devoted to plants that are native to our northeastern Illinois environment. As I look out to the back, I see monarda (bee balm), purple coneflower and prairie milkweed in bloom, surrounded by all sorts of all plants that I see in the forest a block from our house but that I can’t identify. I see the huge bur oaks and swamp oaks and newly plant white oak and red oak juveniles, each about 12 feet tall already, the beech tree, and the poplars, along with trees that are becoming “native” due to climate change, the bald cypress. Viburnum, serviceberry. Huge ferns that grow in the shade, just like in the forest a block away. The list goes on. We had a couple of red-tail hawks hanging around one of the large trees this morning. I couldn’t locate them, but they were doing their screeching voice. They typically join the other birds and insects and sometimes mammals. The animals tend to stay away because we have two dogs, sometimes three if our son is here (all brittanies), that protect their backyard as their kingdom. The chipmunks are usually too fast or too stupid to stay away, but they always win. Too many places for them to hike and taunt. Then the frogs and toads, usually unaware of the danger of the dog.

Excerpt:

We tend to think wildness doesn’t exist in cities, that this incredibly altered environment for the purpose and pleasure of one species is devoid of ecology. And yet, we know this is not true when we see weeds in cracks or slam on brakes for birds crossing the road. Earlier this year a prairie chicken was found in the entertainment district of my city, stuck in a storm drain, then caught and released into a nearby tallgrass prairie remnant. There’s irony in this act of compassion—moving a bird from her former home to an echo of her home that likely also can’t sustain her.

Wildness matters. Other species matter. In so many ways our lives are nothing without the thriving context of the real world. My family moved from windy, hot Oklahoma when I was ten to cool, shady Minnesota. I remember a flock of geese that flew low over a neighborhood woodland I was exploring. I was terrified by the trees, the sweet darkness, the shafts of light like arrows, and then the startled calls of geese scraping overhead. I never felt more vibrant and aware, a young boy removed from any sense of home so he could make a new one. Every time a flock flies over my house in Nebraska, whether I’m in the gardens or typing at the computer, I know I’m being blessed. I’m being called back to the world and remembered, while being asked to remember something our species has misplaced. It’s a reciprocity that calls for more than appreciation or delight or momentary beauty, or even of feeling blessed—it’s a reciprocity that asks for defiant compassion and activism. We have to find a way to give voice to the voiceless in our culture if we have any hope of addressing linked issues like climate change, racism, extinction, food deserts, poverty, and pollution.

An urban garden designed equally for humanity’s concept of beauty and the necessary beauty of nectar, pollen, and shelter for wildlife is a practice in ethical empathy. It’s a revival of freedom. My garden isn’t for me—it’s for all the lives we push to the margins and that are waiting for a rebirth of compassion. Here in eastern Nebraska, where the tallgrass has been 99.9% eradicated, the species that have called it home for millennia still exist, wandering corn and soybean rows, roadside edges, backyards, and even city streets. One blazingstar and one monarch can totally upend the concept of urban design and development. I wish someone would have stopped and sat with me, if even for one minute. As the butterfly leapt up and down the stem from bloom to bloom, as a quick gust of wind pushed him off then boomeranged him back, a glimmer of Nebraska resurfaced from a few square feet. 

[suitcasetales]

What is that?

Up early Thursday morning, the first thing I did was pull back the curtains to look at the volcano and it wasn’t there. Since I had not been woken by an eruption or ordered to follow the Evacuation Route, I suppose the cloud cover was to blame. What a relief!

After breakfast we headed up to Registration for another adventure with Canoa Aventura. Today’s destination: the conglomerate Mistico, a complex with six hanging bridges throughout the treetops, a garden, zip lines and the chance for a horseback ride but we were only going for the hanging bridges. Our guide Mauricio upheld the excellent standards of the guides we have encountered here. 

Although privately owned, this third generation family wanted to share this valuable resource and is committed to preserving the rainforest and like any comparable entity, they need the money (our entry fees) to fund their preservation quest. We saw many employees scurrying about, working to shore up some areas where there had been minor rockslides and smoothing out some bumpy spots to improve assessibility. They also had staff at the beginning of every hanging bridge to ensure that no more than 15 people were on at the same time.....very comforting when you are walking over the tree tops!

We also really liked the English interpretation of their health warning sign and it has now become the new question we ask each other, are you okay or are you fading?

We also liked their no smoking sign and applaud their stance.

Another one of the beautiful tanagers here:

About three minutes in to our guided hike when Mauricio was showing us a mango tree and some interesting flowers...............

.....and Janet suddenly said, “What is that?” There was a critter just casually walking across the grass. It was a coati, similar to our raccoon, another first for us.

Getting further into the rain forest, we came upon another guide who had his scope directed at a blue jeans frog — still not a great picture..... 

.......and Lord have mercy, I don’t know how he spotted it as it was up a hillside ate least twelve feet. Mauricio loved shining his cell phone light in to holes and we learned about the trap door spiders who will weave their web across one of those holes and then wait for something delectable to get caught in it.

The hanging bridges were a bit wobbly, especially if there were several people on it, all taking steps at different times. It was challenging but basically impossible to try to walk across without grabbing the handrail and some were more open/sunny than others. It was cool seeing the world from that perspective.

We could not see a waterfall but you could hear a waterfall.

We also saw another eyelash viper snake, a brown one. When they reproduce, they come out in several colors but there is always a brown one and it stays brown. This one was not embedded in the tree bark but instead was laying on a big palm leaf.

Our half of the group finished about 30 minutes ahead of the second group as their leader had to speak both English and Spanish. We took some photos, hung around and changed in to our bathing suits for the second part of today’s adventure.

The 200 foot Fortuna Waterfall is run by a local non-profit and all proceeds are reinvested in local conservation efforts. At the top/entrance, is a gift shop and cafe. Down 540 steps, you will find the base of the falls. Brave souls, like Janet, negotiate their way through the rocks and into the chilly water. (I personally think that at $18 a person, they could clear a safe path in to the water.)You are forbidden to go under, behind or to the right of the falls; there is a hydraulic action that will put you and your rescuers in danger. I held the towels and took photos........ 

.......and then once Janet was safely out, we walked around to the sandy beach where I braved getting in up to my shins. I am just not a cold water person. (Look closely and you will see a lot of fish in the water.)

Back up the 540-plus steps (there were about 20 going down to the sandy beach), we then went to lunch, as a group, to a restaurant in La Fortuna. We had pre-ordered on the van (choosing from tilapia, chicken or beef) so service was quick. We sat across from one of several young English couples we have met on this trip. She is a lawyer and he works for the British equivalent of our Chambers of Commerce. He also plays in a local rugby league so I enjoyed talking with him about sports. The food was delicious. We have loved all of the open-air dining and all of the restaurants have excellent service.

Delivered back to our delightful Arenal Manoa junior suite, we relaxed for a while in the room and then went back to the thermal pool for Happy Hour pina coladas. Having had a large lunch, we did not need a huge dinner. We had both perused the menu in our room of the on-site restaurant and had wanted to try their coconut broth with seafood so it was a perfect night to do so. It was yummy.

While we were savoring our meal and our waterside table, and delaying packing, I noticed a waiter telling a couple of women at another table to follow him and to bring their cameras. I decided to do the same. There was a green lizard practically sitting on the deck railing. Unfortunately, the two Florida blondes were drunk and one of them put her head within about 4 inches of him for a selfie and then tried to pet him!! Of course he skittered away. I was so angry but hey she really liked the shirt I was wearing so I guess I was supposed to forgive her. Alas, the waiter consoled me by disclosing to me it basically lives there and comes often and he sneaks it watermelon. The chances of seeing it at breakfast were good....and hopefully the blondes will still be in bed!

[stayradadventureteam]

Belgian Spring

The 2017 Barry Roubaix Story.

It's hot, it's dark, and it smells real bad.  That is how I wake up in a hotel in the middle of nowhere Michigan with three other grown adults.  Hotel rooms full of cyclists always have a similar smell to dorm rooms.  As I walk to the window in the dark I'm dreading what I'm about to see, RAIN.  Lots of rain with no signs of letting up.

As I ate my hotel breakfast after a shitty nights sleep, I noticed other cyclists starting to gather for their "continental breakfast" in the hotel lobby.  I think to myself, "why do I keep signing up for this shit".  

It's been a few years since my last "Barry".  2014 was the last time I was in Hastings Michigan, a cute little town just south of Grand Rapids.  I always hear Barry come up when gravel races are mentioned.  Lets be clear, there isn't really any gravel or mud at Barry.  Rather, there is SAND, lots of sloppy sand that destroys bikes.  If you've ever done any kind of hiking, cycling, or camping in Michigan, you're familiar with all the sand everywhere.

This year it was going to rain all day, and never get to 40 degrees.  This ain't my 1st rodeo.  I've ridden in these conditions before, too often actually.  I know how to dress.  Wool.  Wool is your friend and should be your base.  Wool is some magical fabric that man can not recreate synthetically.  When wool gets wet, it stays warm.  Nothing else does that.  Then you need a decent shell.  An actual rain coat.  My weapon of choice has been the Giro Neo Rain jacket lately.  Really a garbage bag would work just as well, something that is basically plastic to keep moisture out and heat in.  Hands and feet are the tricky part.  Shoe covers of some sort were a must.  I had some crappy Specialized ones that I don't recommend, but they worked well enough.  My gloves, my wonderful Bontrager gloves that I've worn all winter saved my life.  I also recently invested in a Gore cycling cap.  Which might be the single best piece of cycling apparel I have ever purchased.  My head was warm and dry, the short bill helped keep the rain out of my face.

Sitting in the starting grid, I took a mental survey of the surrounding riders emotional vibes.  Many were jovial, make jokes and talking shit.  Others, have already lost.  Their faces long and full of dread.  This won't be a fitness test.  No, rather it was going to be test of a persons will and inner strength. 

 Rain.  Hard sleeting rain started started to pelt everyone once we hit the 1st pavement section.  My only concern was my vision.  I wear glasses and at some point I had to pull over and gently put them away in my jersey pocket.  Which slowed me down quite a bit.  I had to be more careful of my lines and try to hang with someone who could guide me. perferable with a real fender.

Despair, fear, loneliness, are how I've been seeing people describe their day at Barry-Roubaix.  Mine could not be further from that.  Like I said, this ain't my 1st rodeo.  Mentally, I fine all day.  Happy even, jamming to songs in my head leap frogging from one quitter to the next.  While everyone was indoors playing on their power pads (Zwift) all winter, I was outside riding my bike.  I'm accustom to shitty weather, and I think that paid off.  I dropped people I had no business dropping.  I also never really pushed it as hard as I could have, for whatever reason.

Eventually the rain let up and I could put my glasses back on and turn the gas back on.  Half way through I started picking up others from Chicago.  Eventually I'd lose them in the headwind.  Yeah, headwind?  I don't remember Michigan having much wind.  WTF.  Towards the end I would end up working with the the woman who would later win the women's Single Speed category until her rear hub started to crap out and I started recognizing more local kits in the distance.  Clicking, scrapping, knocking, my poor bike pushed toward familiar roads and riders.  We were on the roads back into town, and I was on a mission to catch every Chicago rider I could.

With the motivation of seeing Chainlink, Lovestar, and Tuxedo Thunder riders in the distance, it was time to be done with all this.  By which point I could no longer feel my feet, at all.  My hands decided to start getting warm again at the end, letting me eat a little.  Slogging through those last few miles, trying to reach and pass every kit I could recognize was draining me.  The last few bits of gravel/sand were REAL soft, sucking my power like a vampire in a blood bank.  Pavement never felt so good beneath me as I rolled off that gritty spongy road.

With blocks to go, this one guy caught up to, and passed me.  Who, I had been yo-yoing with all day and thought I had dropped for good a little bit ago.  Dammit.  He beat me.  I was dead.  I was done.  I cheered a few Chicago friends at the finish before I made a B-line to the car to get that floor heater on full blast.

Only in the car do I finally become unhappy.  Not cause I'm cold or didn't do the time I wanted, but the realization sets in that my bike is trashed and will probably need to be over hauled, replacing several parts.  Oh, and my car is now full of sand.  SIGH.  Its a real Charlie Brown moment in that parking lot in Michigan, that I wouldn't trade for anything else.

Until next year Barry-Roubaix.

 Thank you SnowyMountain for letting me use some photos!!

-Schratz

[stinkrascal]

Ok so I was thinking about your sims again 👉🏾👈🏾 and um ok so ik you said tarek's love language is romantic acts of service, but what about the others? Also like what would be their ideal first date? And how would they react to other people flirting with their partner? Like ik vlad would commit a murder, but what about brie 👀 ?

i actually listed all their love languages here!! but ideal dates?? jealousy??? OMG!! im gonna ramble so hard!! so i’ll put all this under a cut :’)))

vlad - a) vlad’s ideal date would be like... an idyllic picnic in a field, listening to soft music, chillin in the sun n eatin fruit n drinkin wine :-) all that sappy shit!! b) u know vlad. he will unalive u if u disrespect his wife. the truest simp. but anyways yes he is a very jealous person, sometimes it’s a little excessive and brie has to yell at him, to which he eventually realizes that he’s being unreasonable and he’ll step back. he really doesn’t try to be that way, sometimes he honestly just can’t help it. since he was alone for centuries, he’s extremely over protective of his family and can find pretty much any reason to dislike any man who so much as glances in breanna’s direction. his jealousy never stems from fear that breanna will cheat on him, but more so from his belief that pretty much every man on the planet is trying to bed his wife LMAO lowkey breanna loves the attention :’))

breanna - a) honestly, she’s very easy to please. just get takeout n get in bed n smoke a bowl n watch movies with her n she will be happy! ;w; b) brie is surprisingly not that jealous, like if someone finds vlad attractive shes like... well of course? look at him? Lmaoooo. unless someone poses a significant threat to their relationship, she doesnt see a reason to get worked up. like she knows how hard vlad simps u know, this man canonically KILLED her ex-boyfriend to be with her so like? she doesnt feel any reason to get upset if someone finds vlad attractive, bc she knows at the end of the day her husband is crazy obsessed w her and her alone so like <3

lucien - a) winery art galleries!! u know like where you go to art exhibits that have wine tastings!!!! sometimes they have those cute delicious tiny little cheeses that r just so good n fancy!!! going to that, then maybe takin a stroll around the park in the evening, then ending the night w a home-cooked meal. b) hes a touch possessive, but its all in good faith :’) if someone flirts with his WIFE he only feels it necessary that he puts them in their place and lets them know that she is, in fact, MARRIED!! like vlad, a true simp

gen - a) skatepark at night, long past closing time. its oddly serene, despite the faint threat of being caught. gen personally finds the parks lingering smell of cigarettes and weed very comforting. b) they r passive-aggressively jealous. they say theyre not a jealous type, but if the girl theyre talkin to is talkin to someone else, theyre like... ok. 😒😒😒

carlile - a) chiefin big rips then going to eat at a buffet....... he will eat so many frog legs like so fucking many!! then goin to see a movie in one of those big movie theaters and seein like a marvel movie or whatever. just somethin trite and theatrical with many, many explosions. b) not aggressively jealous, but his insecurities can sometimes get the best of him in arguments and sometimes he projects his fears that tarek will leave him for someone else, which isnt good u know but like :(( what can u do

nikolai - a) waking up with the sun and traveling to the largest museum he can find, followed by brunch at some hole-in-the-wall café tucked away in the city. the long drive home is spent listening to low-quality psychedelic indie rock, and when he and abigail arrive home, they nap for at least three hours. b) nikolai’s not really a jealous type, and abigail’s pretty clingy, so he doesn’t really have a reason to be jealous. although, when he's severely provoked, he’s prone to that tone of voice where it sounds as though you can’t choose between screaming, or crying.

klaus - a) perusing the local record shop, buying as many used vinyl he can possibly fit in his book sack, and listening to the new purchases in the dim-lit light of his bedroom while talking and napping in between. if he’s really into you, he’ll sing your favorite song—he might even play it on the guitar, too, if he can remember the chords. b) again, not much of a jealous type. most of his relationships have been nothing more than flings anyways, so he doesn’t often have the attachment to someone that would make him jealous, seeing as his relationships are often not exclusive.

anastasia - a) a long, early-morning walk through the aquarium, taking an extra long break to observe the sea turtles swimming about their tanks. she’ll gladly share all of her expansive sea turtle facts with you, if you promise to buy her a stuffed animal from the gift shop. afterwards, strolling downtown to shop in all the antique stores, then ending the date with lunch at her favorite restaurant. pls just let her talk your ear off and she’ll be satisfied. b) annie’s actually REALLY possessive, especially over her friends. she’s the type of person who will get offended if anyone else tries to say vaughn and caspian are their best friends, because, no? those are HER best friends? she’s never had a boyfriend before, but she can imagine she’d be just as possessive, if not more possessive, over someone she loved romantically. she takes from vlad :’)

ilya - a) he is literally like 1 yr old. he doesnt go on dates silly. when hes old enough to go on dates his dream date will be committing arson together <3 so romantic b) im sure he’ll be jealous af when hes older unless i forget u know we’ll see whenever he ages up yeah!!!!!!

bonnie - a) moving all the furniture in the living room, turning the radio up extra loud, and dancing to old-timey music!! then cooking a nice, healthy meal at home and watching reality tv while doing face masks. maybe ending the night w a nice bath fit for two <3 b) especially with her pregnancy, she’s been VERY jealous lately!! small things can trigger her jealousy, and sometimes she finds it difficult to be her usual, rational self when those feelings arise. luckily, it’s very easy to talk her out of this state, so she gets over these fits of jealous relatively quickly ;-;

 tarek - a) driving out into the forest, setting up tents in the middle of nowhere, and snuggling tight beside the crackling fire while watching the night settle. then waking early the next morning to go for a small hike towards the natural lakes scattered about. if carlile is too tired to walk, tarek simply carries him. :’)) b) level-headed as he is, jealousy doesn’t come to him often. it would take a lot to provoke him, and his relationship with carlile is so secure that he doesn’t really feel there’s a need to be jealous

abigail - a) midday trips to the mall with nikolai’s credit card in hand as he shamelessly lets her pick out anything she wants from any store she can possibly enter. she’s always sure to pick out a few outfits she’s certain he’ll love :’)). then going to get smoothies, yes nikolai’s paying for the smoothies too <3 b) abigail is extremely jealous, though she’s desperately trying to ease this habit. especially with nikolai moved to britechester, living with a female roommate, her jealousy often gets the best of her, and believe me when i say it isn’t pretty. she’s prone to dramatic outbursts, and she’ll even feel the urge to enact revenge (aka, cheat on you) if she feels you’ve truly cheated on her. she has to see and speak to nikolai often to have peace of mind, but even then, she often has her moments of insecurity. :((

caspian - a) watching some indie art film at a drive-in movie theater, binging on over-buttered popcorn and gas station hot dogs. if the weather allows for it, then he’ll lay a blanket out on the bed of his truck and lie back with his date, gazing at the stars, rambling about nothing. b) he’s a jealous type, but he doesn’t like admitting it. the truth is, though, it kills him to see someone he cares about with someone else. its just that he doesnt know how to express those feelings, so he often just shoves them away as if they dont exist at all. ;n;

vaughn - a) listen to him perform at one of his concerts, then let him fuck you in one of the bathroom stalls. a true romantic, i know. b) most of vaughn’s relationships are no-strings-attached anyways, so its rare for him to get jealous over a relationship thats already open to begin with. even when he did have partners in the past, he was never the type to be overly protective of his significant other

cooper - a) ok idc about cooper HAHA so like idk nobody is taking this man on a date anyways who cares. idk smoke a bowl with him in his car then go eat at a fancy restaurant that sounds like a very cooper bauer date to have yeah ok we’ll go with that b) he gets jealous but like in a baby way u know. if he thinks you’re into someone that isn’t him he’ll just bawl his eyes out and be like WHY DON’T YOU LOVE ME ANYMORE!!!!!!!!! IS IT BECAUSE IM ONLY 5′6″!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! yes cooper it is because youre only 5′6″ im sorry short king

wolfgang - a) going around his neighborhood late at night and poking holes in all the tires parked in the streets. yes, that’s super illegal. no, he doesn’t care. yes, this is considered a date for wolfgang. keep up. afterwards, maybe he’ll sneak you up to his bedroom so you guys can watch rick and morty... cuddle. b) i feel like im gonna spoil something if i answer this fully. so. lets just say. Yes he is very jealous :)

[thehikingviking]

Mt Bago & Mt Rixford via Kearsarge Pass

For Day 8 of the 2019 Sierra Challenge, Asaka and I decided to take a rest day and join Jim and Evan fishing. We woke up at the aforementioned time and knocked on the door of Evan’s RV. Evan was slow to get up, and mentioned that he hurt his leg and was unable to participate for the day. He invited us in and treated us to coffee as we waited for Jim. Evan wasn’t sure when Jim would arrive, and for some time I thought he changed his plans and wouldn’t show up at all, since some of the lakes near Onion Valley have had the trout within exterminated to help the endangered Sierra Nevada yellow-legged frogs. Jim eventually showed up and the three of us bade farewell to Evan. Our route started off following the Bubbs Creek Trail towards Kearsarge Pass, but after a quarter mile we took a right at the fork and followed the neglected trail up towards Golden Trout Lake and Dragon Peak Lakes. The trail passed through trimmed brush and then crossed the creek up loose and sandy slopes on the right side of a waterfall. I found myself sweating and breathing heavily. This was no rest day, but merely an easier day. We still had to gain 2,200 vertical feet to reach the lakes. We took a right at the fork in the canyon and later arrived at the lower of the two Dragon Peak Lakes.

I rushed to set up my Tenkara, but was slowed down significantly when I lost my fly on one of the first few casts. Jim simply dropped his line into the water on the other side of a large rock and within seconds had a fish on. He pulled out a beautiful golden trout.

After Jim’s success, the trout became wary and while many investigated our baits, we had no more bites. After at least an hour, we hiked up the canyon to the higher lake. Here we all had a ton of success with the brook trout.

It was almost too easy. After I caught 5 different fish, I decided that was enough. I stopped by the lower lake for one more try at a golden, but still came up empty handed. After several hours of fishing, we hiked back down the canyon to the cars.

I was well ahead of Jim on the hike out, but received a phone call in an area with service. While I was distracted, Jim covertly took a shortcut and beat us back to the cars to our surprise. We waited in the parking lot for people to come back from the day’s challenge peak of West Spur. Last year I thought East Spur was ludicrous but West Spur was even further. Cleménte was first to arrive followed by Scott and then Bob shortly after. It was a long day for most of the participants. We slept at Ray’s Den in Independence that night. Right before bed I checked my emails and received a note from Scott King. He informed me that he and his son Sean were returning to the challenge, and they planned to hike Mt Langley on Sunday. I invited them to join us for Mt Bago the next day, then went to sleep.

The next morning Asaka and I drove up to the trailhead. I had plans to do Mt Bago, which was a moderate 18 mile hike. As we drove to the trailhead, Asaka’s eyes filled with tears. She did not want to hike anymore. The challenge was over for her, and I was proud that she hiked as much as she did. It was my birthday, and I still wanted to hike, so at the trailhead I told her to head back down to the room and sleep in. I talked to Ken Yee the day before and he also expressed interest in Mt Bago, so I was confident I would have at least one hiking buddy. I found the gang at the trailhead before 6am, and as anticipated, Sean and Scott were present. They were eager to join, so we had a group of 4 heading to Mt Bago. We followed the trail up towards Kearsarge Pass, passing Gilbert, Flower and Heart Lakes along the way.

As we approached the pass, Big Pothole Lake became visible beneath us. University Peak, which Asaka climbed during the 2018 Sierra Challenge, and Nameless Pyramid, which is expected to be on the 2020 Sierra Challenge, posed as a nice backdrop.

Our pace was well matched with each other’s on the uphill. Sean and Scott were fresh, while Ken and I were acclimated. 

We made it to the top of Kearsarge Pass in just over 2 hours where we took our first rest. Mt Bago was visible down the canyon.

The Kearsarge Pinnacles stood in the foreground. South Guard, Mt Brewer and North Guard stood in the background.

What ensued was a section of downhill until Vidette Meadow. Sean and I jogged down this section, as I felt this was easier on my knees, while Ken and Scott walked. Bullfrog Lake was a spectacular sight along the way.

Sean and I took a rest at the end of the downhill section where there is a trail junction with the JMT and PCT. We continued across Vidette Meadow after Scott and Ken caught up.

Mt Bago stood only a mile and a half away. I was pleasantly surprised to see how fast we were covering distance.

There were several parties congregated in this area, most of which were backpackers. I felt proud telling them we were day hikers. From here we left the trail and continued cross country all the way until the summit. We passed through a forest that sprouted up from the granite slabs.

Charlotte Lake appeared down below.

We all got somewhat spread out in picking our own ways to the peak, but we eventually regrouped at the base of the mountain.

I had debated with myself and the others about the best way to climb the final section of the peak, and at the end I decided to take the ridgeline on the right. The rock quality wasn’t very good, but it was bearable.

Since we were making such good time, I started to think out loud about possible bonus peaks. Bago’s Friend seemed like the most obvious choice, however the summit block has a very exposed move and most people recommend bringing a short rope, which we did not have. I joked about climbing Mt Rixford, but Sean took me seriously. I knew that climbing this peak would add somewhere in the range of 2,000 extra vertical feet of gain, and my chances of feeling up for that later on were low.

Sean and I were well ahead of the others as we gained the main ridgeline. We had some unpleasant loose sidehilling to contend with, and we ended up on top of a lingering snowfield just beneath the summit.

Kings Canyon ran right beneath the peak.

Sean and I pushed on and within a few more minutes we were on the summit. The peak was perched right in the middle of various deep canyons and impressive peaks.

To the north was Mt Gardiner.

To the northeast were Black Mountain, Glenn Pass and Mt Rixford.

To the east were Mt Gould, Kearsarge Pass, University Peak and Mt Bradley.

To the southeast were Mt Williamson, East Vidette and West Vidette. 

To the south were Mt Jordan, South Guard, Mt Brewer and North Guard.

To the west was Kings Canyon.

Ken joined us next, followed by Scott a little later. The views from this peak were one of the best in the whole Sierra Nevada, and the effort was rather minimal in comparison to many of the other peaks in the area. I thought about Asaka, and wished that she could have joined us. With perfect weather, we spent longer than usual on the summit. With the idea of Mt Rixford materializing, we decided we better head down soon if we truly wanted to give it a try. I also wanted to be back in time for dinner at 6pm, of which I was the deputy organizer. We followed the northeast ridgeline down to the snowfield, and this time we hiked beneath it. It looked like a giant wave.

With the slopes looking safe enough, we took a more direct route down to the bowl below. The boot skiing wasn’t great, but we shaved off time on the direct route.

I walked down to the creek and filled up my waters without filtering. I took off my shoes and waited for the others. I considered jumping in the lake, but I decided against it in the interest of time.

Mt Rixford came into view as we made our way back to the trail. It was clear that Sean wanted to go for it, but he needed permission from his father, who would not climb Mt Rixford himself. I knew that Scott would give him permission so long that I went with him. I had been in Sean’s shoes in the past, and not wanting to let him down, I informed the others that I would go for Mt Rixford. Sean promptly received the okay, and Ken gave me a piece of paper with a brief write up for Mt Rixford that he printed out prior to the hike. We left Scott and Ken to hike together back to the trailhead, while we hiked ahead to make good on time. 

The route was straight forward enough. We would follow the class 2 south ridge. Knowing Sean would be fast, I got a head start and hiked up the steep sandy slopes and granite boulder piles.

This climb was a bit of a slog, but at least the rocks weren’t loose. I felt confident we would make the summit so long as we remained patient.

As we climbed higher, Mt Clarence King became visible to the northwest.

Falcor Peak stood to our east. I suggested that this could be yet another bonus peak, however the rock quality looked really nasty. We had no beta on the route and I still hoped to make it back in time for dinner.

The wind was blowing throughout our climb. I had really bad gas and I found myself apologizing to Sean quite frequently. He never admitted to smelling anything, however I am pretty sure he was just being polite. With a few hundred feet remaining, the rock quality became more fragmented, and what remained was a series of false summits to bypass.

I made the climb more fun by finding an easy class 3 chimney up the final broken section of mountain.

We made it to the summit a little after 2:30pm. It took us only 2 hours from Vidette Meadow. To the north were Rae Lakes and Fin Dome.

To the northeast were Black Mountain, Mt Mary Austin and Dragon Peak.

To the southeast were Mt Gould, University Peak and Mt Keith.

To the south were Mt Tyndall, Junction Peak, Mt Stanford and Mt Ericsson.

To the west was Kings Canyon.

To the northwest were Mt Gardiner, Mt Cotter and Mt Clarence King.

It felt great to summit this totally unplanned for bonus peak. I have to thank Sean for his enthusiasm and motivation. For our descent, we decided to head towards Falcor Peak at first, then follow the class 2 southeastern slopes back to the trail.

At first the rock was really poor quality, but after taking things slowly, we got onto more solid ground and were able to boot ski for a large portion of the way down.

Once at the treeline, we angled our way to the trail. On the way we passed by some devastation, which was most likely caused by either high winds or an avalanche.

We had one fleeting view of Mt Rixford upon reaching the trail. Good views of this peak are often blocked by the other peaks in the area. 

Now that we were back at the trail, I had to play several mental games to keep my mind off the remaining several hundred feet to the pass. I found the most effective strategy was to try and catch the hikers ahead of us.

Right before the pass there were several deer seemingly out of place among the barren talus. We didn’t beat the two hikers to the pass, but we at least caught up to them there. We jogged and speed walked the remaining distance to the cars.

I took the shortcut saving a few hundred meters and found Scott waiting in the parking lot. What a successful day! Scott gave me a ride back to Independence where we learned the bad news that the taco truck was closed. Instead we had Jim Burd organize a BBQ at Ray’s Den. I was mostly happy to be reunited with Asaka.

At the barbecue, we celebrated my birthday and my 1,000th peak, which I summited two days prior. I was too tired to really talk to anyone. I just sat in the chair and ate my cake and watermelon.

This hike ended my 2019 Sierra Challenge. I set off looking to hike more days (6) than the year prior (4), so I will chalk it up as a success. I look forward to trying to beat that number next year.

[fourseasonslodgenh]

When You Have Extra Cash - Choose a Vacation, Not Toys

​The other day, a friend asked me what my earliest memory was.

Hmmm... I had to give it some thought. Was it a toy I got for Christmas? The time we had a picnic at the beach? When Mom and I made an angel food cake with colored sprinkles? Or the day I got to row a rowboat all by myself?

It was most certainly the day my Dad let me row the rowboat all by myself.  I was about 5 years old and I was so happy and proud.

I started reminiscing about my childhood and all the fun, funny, happy, and memorable times I could remember were all "events" and not "things".

My work gig is that I own Four Seasons Lodge in North Conway, NH and realizing that my fondest memories growing up were almost exclusively time spent with family or friends playing, vacationing, and celebrating was an epiphany for me.

I started to wonder if I was onto something - turns out I was.1. What Makes Kids Happier? Vacations With Loved Ones or Toys?

Have you ever watched a house-full of kids opening presents on Christmas morning? In most households, it's bedlam.

Thousands of dollars of sought after toys and games are carefully wrapped and placed under the tree by "Santa".

It took many hours of shopping, buying, wrapping, working for the money to buy the presents, and about 45 minutes to find yourself engulfed in a sea of wrapping paper with several kids playing with their one favorite toy. You know what happens to the other multitude of toys that are NOT their favorites. It boggles my mind.

Every year at Four Seasons Lodge, I get a worried phone call from a grandmother somewhere in New England. They fret and stammer to me on the phone that they have NO idea what to buy their kids for birthdays and holidays - never-mind their grandkids.

Grandma drones on for a while longer about the cost of toys and that she wants to get them the perfect toy but know their parents will get them what's #1 on their list.

Finally, she gets down to business. She wants to book my lodge for a vacation but she frets that the grandkids won't be excited about a vacation.

Fast-forward to the first day of the family vacation. The younger set is very excited about going away, the tweens are pouting about leaving their friends, and the teenagers are miserable and tweeting/texting/Facebooking their friends about this God-forsaken place called North Conway.

Day Two of Vacation: Kids of all ages meet me at the door to tell how their Dad tried a rope swing when they were Saco River tubing or they all caught frogs when they went on a hike, or they went on the Ferris wheel alone for the first time!

Although my sample size is tiny, I have been welcoming guests for almost 28 years and I have yet to see kids that are not enjoying their vacation time with their family!

I'm in good company with my thinking that vacations are better than toys.  

Britain's bestselling psychological author, Oliver James, writes about the relationships between children and their parents. He has noted that around

one in five gifts we give our children are not actually wanted or valued

.

Parents, friends, and relatives still continue the cycle of buying too much which results in bins, shelves, and closets getting filled with unused and unloved toys.

2. Will Vacations Really Make My Kid Smarter?

Family Time at Story Land

​The

US Department of Education

says YES!

They did a study of the effects of vacation on the academic achievement of children from Kindergarten to 5th grade. They paid specific attention to the areas of reading, math, and general knowledge.

​The results of that study showed that children that vacationed scored higher on academic achievement tests and they get a bonus boost in achievement if the trips were educational in nature.

At a glance:

Children who traveled with their families scored higher on academic achievement assessment tests than those who did not travel.

The number of days spent on family trips positively affected academic achievement.

Children who spent time at museums, historical sites, state parks, and even the zoo and beach had significantly higher academic achievement scores than those who did not.

​

According to Dr William Norman, Associate Professor in Parks, Recreation, and Tourism Management at Clemson University in South Carolina, family travel is a valuable part of a child's education that "contributes to cognitive growth and stimulates a child's sense of wonderment. Providing kids with the experience of travel broadens their horizons and opens up their minds to learning."

I love the way this expert thinks! James Oliver goes on to say, "On the other hand, family holidays are definitely valued by children, both in the moment and for long afterward in their memory. So if you're going to spend money on something, it's pretty clear which option makes more sense." He also states that most adults and children would prefer experiences over material things. -- I agree.​​Have you ever heard, "Can you play with me?" I know I have!

Even though kids have every toy and game they ask for, they insist they are bored. Parents plan multiple playdates, activities, and lessons to keep kids active and quiet but ultimately, it's one on one face time they are craving.

Give in. Plan some together time, make memories, share experiences, and you'll have a happier and more intelligent kid to boot!3. Toys Are Disposable - Memories Last Forever

​Have you ever gone to a yard sale?

Going to yard sales is a summertime sport for me. I love vintage odds and ends and usually can find a few keepers every summer.

What is very noticeable at most yard sales is the overwhelming amount of toys compared to other items. Many times games, books, and stuffed animals have not even been opened or have the tags still on them.

It's sad that most families fall into the trap that kids need a popular toy that is on every second commercial. The reality is that toys, even if your children love certain ones, are only a part of their lives for a short time.

Family vacations and the memories that will definitely be made, will be a part of their lives forever. It would be awesome if families made vacations their priority instead of today's version of the Cabbage Patch Doll.4. Family Vacations Get Kids Off Technology

Most kids left to their own devices these days, will choose technology over being outdoors.

Technology certainly has its' place in their lives but time spent outdoors is very important for children.

According to

Harvard Medical School

, children need to be out in the sunshine to make Vitamin D, they'll get more exercise outside, it boosts executive function, it enhances social skills, and will give them an appreciation of nature and the environment.

5. Experiences, Not Toys Will Make Them More Well Rounded!

OK, now it's time to plan a vacation. After reading that vacations can make your kids smarter, it will be tempting to cram education down their throats. Remember that everything does not need to have a purpose.

Kids live very structured lives with most parents working full-time plus. Imagine how awesome it would be to go on vacation and sleep in late snuggling with a loved one with no schedule for the day.

You're getting a break from work, let you kids have a break from a hard and fast schedule. Ask them what they'd like to do for the day. Just realize that even if you go for a walk or have a pillow fight, they will be learning more than you realize.

They might be learning from you, about you, and maybe even with you.

I remember one trip I took with my 8-year-old son and his Dad plus, my parents. We were sitting around in the RV one night and my son started asking my parents all sorts of questions.

Before I knew it, we had discussed WWII, the Great Depression, my Dad picking weeks from rows of carrots when he was 8 years old on a huge farm, my Mom growing up sleeping in a 3/4 (that's SMALL!) size bed with her Mom and sister, and how my folks remembered signs in windows in town saying, "No Irish Allowed".

Yep, my vote goes to experiences, not toys.

If you're a facts and figures person, it's said that the average household spends $700 per child on toys a year.

I don't know about you, but I could plan a few awesome camping experiences for way less than that!  Every state has State Parks, National Parks are all over the place and out west there are Grasslands and BLM lands with very low fees for camping.

Whatever kind of vacation would make you smile, the most important thing is to take everyone into consideration. Just because you get giddy over an art museum doesn't mean that your 8 year old will agree.

I mention

camping

because it's typically the most cost-effective vacation you can take. The #1 reason folks say they don't take many vacations is cost. Most kids would be just as happy toasting marshmallows over a campfire as taking a Caribbean cruise - what they will pay attention to and remember is all the laughing, smiling, and memories they made with you.

Happy trails wherever your travel takes you.

Teena

www.FourSeaosonsLodge.com

Four Seasons Lodge

31 Whiskiers Lane

North Conway, NH 03860

​(603) 662-5391

​