Apple Picking.

We went to the apple orchard this past weekend. Not because any of us can eat the huge amount of apples we picked, and certainly not because I even like apples that aren't Gala, but because it's one of our fall traditions. In the spring we go to the maple sugar shack and in the fall we go apple picking. It's just that simple.





There are three couples that make our group of adventurers. TC, Tyler and Mike have been friends forever and of the wives I am the only new-comer since I've only been hanging around for about eight years. So yeah, they all go way back and they're all pretty great people.

Our little traditions have been going on for several years now and over the years we've added a couple of kids to the mix. Mike and Christina have the coolest four year old in town and Tyler and Carla have the cutest two year old plus another one on the way.





We missed our annual apple picking trip last year which means that the last two times we've been to the orchard Carla has been in her third trimester. Since TC and I only have pups, we luck out and fill the role of the cool aunt/uncle who's entire existence revolves around playing, running and generally causing trouble with the kiddos.





It's a good role for TC, especially since he's basically a giant ten year-old himself.





The best part of our little excursion is, of course, the tractor ride out to the orchard. Only this year the tractor drove in a big circle and then dropped us off at the edge of the orchard, not 30 yards from where our cars were parked. While we did get jipped on the ride, it gave us plenty of field to lounge around in. Let's face it, we're only a little bit there for the apples and mostly there just as something fun to do that let's us all hang out for a bit in the sunshine.





So we did. We filled our bags with apples and then hung out in the sun. Gwen's favorite thing to do is walk and when she wants you to follow her she waves her hand in a pattern that is very similar to the Miss America wave (you know the one I'm talking about?). We take turns dutifully following her nowhere, and she is happy. Annaleigh on the other hand walks right up to you and says "Chase me!" So we do. Until TC puts his toes on her feet, leaving her completely paralyzed until she eventually collapses in giggles on the grass. The whole process takes less than a minute and may be the most fun game ever invented.

The other fun game is being super short and having a super tall dad. Do you know what that equals? Having your own personal elevator up into the trees. This new concept took apple picking to a whole new level. Literally. Everyone knows that the best apples are way up high.





After lounging in the sun and turning blades of grass into whistles and eating enough apples to make ourselves sick we finally headed back to the store for to find the perfect pumpkins.

Obviously, we had no trouble. On our walk back we decided that all of these freshly picked apples were going to need a good home - in the shape of apple pie and/or apple crisp. Naturally, we would need to have a little dinner party this weekend in order to create the perfect atmosphere in which to serve the apple pie.





So that's the plan for this weekend. Except I don't like apple pie, which means Christina is going to have to make me my own mini apple-less pie with nothing but brown sugar and cinnamon.

Sounds delicious.

Sail Away.

The mission this weekend was to do something fun. I had big plans to check out the hot air balloon festival but the winds were so heavy that it wasn't in the cards.

Do you know what heavy winds are good for? Sailing.





TC and all of his friends are sailors. I grew up going to soccer camp, they grew up going to sailing school. John and Andrew both have big sail boats that the boys race regularly. We're lucky enough to live right on the coast so our local marina is packed full of boats that race several times a week in the summers.





The final race of the season was on Saturday. Since the balloon festival was out of the question, TC and I packed up and headed out to the big red boat named Courage. She's 33 feet long and, thankfully, has a bathroom. This is always a good thing when you're a girl and heading out to sail the seven seas for the day.





Just because the boys are skillful sailors doesn't mean that I have any clue what is going on. Sure, I know the basics. Courage has two sails - the main and the jib. She even has an extra fancy one called the spinnaker that is flown in certain situations. Other things I know include: ropes are called lines and sheets, the front is called the foredeck, the little strings on the sails are called tell-tails, and that I should always stay the hell out of the way because I don't know what I'm doing.





I've sailed in this particular race twice before. The first time it was so rough that we all spent the day barfing over the side. The second time it was so calm that we actually sailed backwards for a while. This time no one barfed but we did spend the entire time hanging on for dear life while the waves soaked us.





The boys have done this a million times so if there isn't a broken mast in the middle of a lightening storm, they don't panic. A little high wind is what they consider fun - definitely not enough to warrant squealing and screaming like I do.





I take my cues from John. I can squeal and scream all day, but if John is calm and relaxed than I know we are actually not in any danger of tipping over. Which, is called capsizing, by the way. Even though we cruised at a solid 45 degree angle for the trip, John remained calm. I, on the other hand, held on the to railings for dear life because I was convinced we were going to tip over at any moment.





Here's how this works. The majority of the crew is in the back manning the steering wheel and all the lines that control the sails. They are relatively dry, safe and on level ground back there. The rest of us sit on the side of the boat with our legs hanging over the side. Our legs go under the bottom railing, which is called a life line, and when the boat leans enough we put our head and bodies under the second one to help even out the weight. When you're in this position the boat is leaning way to the side and you're sitting on the high side, which means if you let go you will roll down and right into the water. My advice is to not look down.





Now here's the fun part - turning. When the boat turns it's called tacking or jibing, depending on the direction you turn. Tacking and jibing is pretty fierce in high winds. The boom is a big metal pole that holds the main sail. It comes violently swinging across the boat and if you don't duck under it than you can kiss your head goodbye. Also, you have to very quickly dive across the boat and get yourself to the other side. If not, have fun swimming. Remember, the boat is not level. It's very slanted so it's like quickly climbing a ladder.





On one of the tacks, I didn't move fast enough and TC had to grab me by the jacket and pull me across. On another Franco didn't move fast enough and, as he phrased it, took a 2.5 second dip in the water. Meanwhile, the boat is not exactly a smooth surface. There are bumps and bolts and other thingys that ensure your knees, hips and shins will be peppered with bruises for the next week.





Now, this is all only in really high wind. In normal wind, this is all more relaxed. However, the exhilaration of high wind is what makes it so much fun. Flying across the water with the boat leaning and waves crashing and squealing in slight panic is what makes it an adventure.





Not to mention that in all of this you're trying to not spill your beer. Let's be honest, it's the only way to sail. And probably what keeps John so calm. Remember, I take my panic cues from him. If John is calm, than I should be to. If John is tense, than we are going to die. It's a pretty simple equation.





It should be mentioned that John didn't get tense at all in the race. Neither did Andrew, who was steering. TC wasn't the least bit concerned and actually thought it was quite hilarious to calm my fears with comments like, "Yup, we're about to go over" or "Hang on, we might die."





He's helpful like that.

Once the race was over we dropped our sails and motored out a bit to enjoy the rest of the afternoon. With drinks in our hands, we recapped the day and talked about how awesome it was and how the wind wasn't really that bad and how we might have actually won the race. Wouldn't that be something?





And you know what, we took home the win. The proof is in the red flag.

If You Were At Our Table...

For the first time in months the girls and I reunited at our weekly Why Not Wednesday hub. We sat down over drinks to catch up on all our summer shenanigans and celebrate Annie's birthday. We do this every Wednesday solely for the fact that it's Wednesday. So, why not?

If you had been at our table I would have told you that...

I love summer, I'm dreading winter and yet I'm over this whole non-air-conditioned summer thing. Would it really cause Northerners that much trouble to install air conditioning? The heat is fine, and even expected when you're outside, but when you're in a classroom full of children it's a little much. I keep hearing teachers say, "Bring on winter!" and as much as that makes me want to curl up into the fetal position I am slowly starting to see why Canadians enjoy winter. You probably would too if your only escape from the heat was in the solace of your air-conditioned car. I'm not kidding, I found myself driving an extra ten minutes yesterday on my way home just to keep the cool air flowing.





On the other hand, we are under a frost warning for tonight...so I guess my complaints about air conditioning are null and void.





If you were at our table, I would also tell you that it is still skate boarding season around these parts.

Old Grey Beard is younger than she looks and will do absolutely anything if it means she can go wildly running down the street like a maniac.

I don't know who loves it more - TC or Maple. Actually, I might love it the most. I mean really, who else is married to a man that still rides his bike or skateboard on a daily basis...and then wakes up the next morning and puts on a tie to go to work?

It makes me happy.

I would also tell you about this Fall Shred I'm doing. Basically, I paid a personal trainer $30 dollars to send me a months worth of workouts and weekly menus of clean eating. So far, I've followed about half the menu and used the jump rope so much that I'm pretty sure my calves are no longer attached to my body.

The best part of the menu is the late night snack. It involves three ingredients that have never before graced my kitchen - almond milk, chai (vanilla) tea and stevia. Let me tell you, it is amazing and I crave it all day long.

If I could, I would make you a nice steaming mug of it right now and pour it right through the computer screen for you. Clearly that's not going to work, so this is what you do: boil 2 cups of almond milk, add in two bags of chai vanilla tea and a big pinch or two of stevia. Perfect for cool fall evenings!

Don't knock it 'til you try it.

Have a wonderful weekend and be sure to do something fun!

Birthday Weekend Shenanigans.

TC and one of his best friends are lucky enough to celebrate their birthdays within two days of each other. This works out well because we get to have a double birthday celebration every year. 

After painstakingly hanging twenty-some balloons, TC walked in the house and immediately started hitting all of them. He said it was a guy thing and that he could promise that they would all by down by the end of the day. 

Somehow, it has become Tyler's job to come up with an obscure cake flavor for me to make every year. About an hour into my baking extravaganza I decided to bust out my DJ-style headphones and have my own party in the kitchen. 

Truly, I can't even explain how much fun I had. I was dancing and singing like no one was watching, even though TC was just a room away. 

Tyler requested a blueberry cake this year and I aim to please - thus, a blueberry frosted white cake was born. 

It was delicious. Not one crumb went uneaten. 

We take birthdays seriously in this house so all of our friends were invited over for a party. And you know that no party is a success unless the fire department shows up. 

We didn't start a fire, but it just so happens that one of our closest friends is a fire fighter. He happened to be in between emergency calls, so his fire engine pulled up outside. We all ran to the window, fighting for the best view. We excitedly pointed and ohhhed and ahhhed like a bunch of elementary school kids.

We had grand plans to do some bowling, but that was thwarted when TC opened a birthday present. 

In keeping up with our elementary school theme, the boys spent the rest of the evening learning how to fly the remote controlled helicopter inside the house.

I feel that I'm going to have to repaint all my walls in the very near future.

We woke up this morning to open a few more presents.

A remote controlled sailboat kit! Just what every sailor needs.





That's not exactly where I envisioned the wood bicycle living, but it was his birthday so I let it slide for the day.





The headphones came back out this afternoon as I set out to make one more birthday cake for TC's family dinner. It's the same cake I've made the past three years. The idea is to have fourteen layers, but that's never happened. The first year there were thirteen. There were ten layers last year and eleven this year.





Our niece puffed up her little cheeks and helped Uncle TC blow out his candles. I forgot to bring candles so my mother-in-law scrounged up what she had. Our best guess is that the 5 candle was left over from TC's birthday thirty years ago.

Two birthdays, two cakes, one party, a helicopter and a fire fighter visit later, I'd say birthday weekend was a success.





And if anyone happens to know someone that needs a helicopter in their life, this one is awesome. It's a Blade mQX. My mom had my uncle, who happens to be a pilot, find a good one. He bought the same one for himself and is currently driving my aunt crazy with it too.

Three Years!

Today marks three years that TC and I have been married. I was pretty sure that it was three years, but TC thought it may have been four years so we double checked the math.

Yup, it's been three years.

It's funny how you can loose track of time like that. In some ways it feels like we just got married yesterday. In other ways it feels like we've been married for decades. 

We got married on Easter weekend, which was only four short months after our engagement. 

Just a few months before our wedding, in October, TC was supposed to come down to Florida for a visit. But then things got messed up, as they always do, and he had to postpone his trip. 

He rescheduled for November. As promised, he showed up at the Orlando airport on a Thursday. The next day I couldn't take off work so I left him to fend for himself. Since his arrival he had been acting funny, not eating and didn't seem to be having fun at all. I figured maybe he was overwhelmed and just needed some time to himself.

That day he came in to see my classroom. I was sure that he was so unimpressed with my teaching skills that he was most definitely going to break up with me. I couldn't think of any other reason that he would have flown all the way across North America just to act like a total weirdo. It made perfect sense. 

I knew it - he was there to end our relationship. No doubt in my mind.

He took my car for the remainder of the day to visit some friends around town. I spent the rest of the day half teaching and half worrying about what I was going to say when he broke up with me. I tried to mentally prepare myself.

Well, imagine my surprise when we get back to my house and instead of breaking up with me he proposed! I about died right there on my back porch.

It was the most perfect moment ever. 

The details are somewhat blurry, but I remember being so happy and feeling so loved. Somewhere in the proposal he mentioned something about having to make big decisions, which I assume was in reference to choosing a country to live in. I knew that was important, but all that I really cared about was finally knowing that he wanted to marry me. Compared to that, everything else was just small details.

So, here we are three years later. All is well and we couldn't be happier. We still manage to act like newly-weds and an old married couple all at the same time. I think that may be the key to a happy marriage.

As exciting as an anniversary is (AND IT IS EXCITING!) it also kicks off TC's birthday week. 

I spent some time wrapping presents for him today and planning out a fun get-together with our friends this weekend. Get your socks ready kids, we're going bowling!