Fresh Air.

The trick to surviving Northern winters is to embrace it. Essentially, the opposite of what I've been doing. It's so easy during these long and cold winters to hibernate and only leave your house when absolutely necessary.

Exhibit A: I froze my gym membership until April because it's too cold to go out at night and I'm a weenie.

Exhibit B: While having an exciting night of watching Sex and the City 2 on Saturday night I had to message a few girlfriends and ask them if we could make plans for this coming weekend because I haven't seen anyone other than my darling husband on a weekend evening in a month. No lie, we've been hibernating since Christmas.

Exhibit C: I legitimately couldn't remember the last time the dogs walked further than the mailbox.

Exhibit D: Last Friday morning the thermometer was hovering around -40. I was outside helping kids out of their parent's cars at school drop-off. I helped a little girl out of the car and when I shut the back door the back window shattered because it was so dang cold. The entire thing cracked and glass rained all over my boots. I stuck my entire arm through the hole just to demonstrate the damage to the mother.

However, it is oh so much easier to embrace when the temperature is at least kind of close to being a positive number. There actually isn't all that much snow on the ground right now so TC and I decided to take advantage of the sunny skies this past weekend and hit the trails.





We weren't out there for more than an hour but it sure did feel good. Fresh air is so rejuvenating this time of year. Not to mention that those ridiculous dogs of ours had more fun than any dog has ever had in the history of the world.





It flurried just enough during our walk to make it pretty. The trees kept most of the wind away and we moved just fast enough that it wasn't even too cold. It was just what I needed to remember that winter is half way over and we're on the downward slide to spring!

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.

The Perfect Weekend.

This weekend was as close to perfect as they come. The weather was the epitome of fall - clear, crisp blue skies and trees that are absolutely on fire. If you follow me on Instagram, you've already seen the evidence.





It was the kind of weekend where anything on the to do list was thrown out the window in the name of fun. It was just too good to pass up. And with a long winter right around the corner, I've been feeling very I-don't-care-what-we-should-be-doing-let's-go-have-fun-ish. I hate to say it, but generally I see the weekend as catch-up time when I can be productive and get things together. For whatever reason, lately I've been trying to keep up during the weekend to eliminate the need for catch-up during the weekend. That frees up time to enjoy the weekend as it is truly meant to be - time for fun and a little bit of rest.





We packed in so much this weekend that it feels like forever since I've been at work. And this week is only a three day week because Canadian Thanksgiving is next weekend. Five days off work? Yes please.

Friday night we spent under the stars around the fire. Saturday started at the market for breakfast and coffee as a meeting point to head out to the apple orchard. Right from there we hit the woods with more friends and the dogs and then ended the day watching Tennessee football and finished the evening with a small party. Today brought sleeping in, a late breakfast and then a trip to the park with Carla to get some shots of her baby belly. Just seven short weeks and her second little one will be here. Is it wrong that I'm hoping she goes into labor at our American Thanksgiving party? I think that would make for a really great story.





I hope you managed to do something fun this weekend too!

Weekend Highlights.

Are you still there? I'm sorry for my m.i.a-ness last week. Life gets busy sometimes! I love it when things are busy. It makes me feel good. I got a lot done and spent lots of quality time on the phone with some of my favorite people.

I knew this weekend was going to be a doozy and I was ready for it. To start it off the right way, TC and I celebrated on Friday night because bubbly is always necessary when your offer on a house is accepted. We sat on the porch sipping champagne and talking about everything we were excited for. "What is your favorite part of the house?" he would ask. "All of it," I told him.

Every last piece of it, to be honest. I can't wait.

I'm trying to sleep more at night and feel more alive in the morning. With a photo session on the docket for Saturday morning I wanted to be ready. I woke up with time to spare and was able to enjoy two cups of coffee and a good book before heading out to the park. Plus, a little social networking never killed anybody.

I worked with this family last year and the four kids are so adorable and so energetic. I literally sprinted after them for ninety minutes and worked up a good sweat. My reward? Two delicious jars of homemade strawberry and peach jam. Can't beat that with a stick.

To keep the good times rolling I put my camera up and headed to meet TC and our realtor. We've been ready to buy a house for a while now and are fortunate enough to be in a position where time isn't an issue. We've simply been waiting patiently for the perfect house to come along. After some negotiation and a few signatures it looks like we'll be moving in at the end of November. Between American Thanksgiving and our closing date, that's going to be an exciting weekend.

From there I went to a baby shower to welcome the newest addition to TC's family. Sweet little Matt slept through the entire thing and missed out on the best cake I've ever tasted. He seemed to peaceful that I just couldn't bring myself to tell him what he was missing out on.

My beloved Tennessee Volunteers had a big weekend too. I've yet to meet a Canadian that gives a damn about college football but that doesn't stop me from wearing my orange every Saturday. Even TC has learned that he's better off putting on his shirt and acting like he cares. Bless his heart, I love that man almost as much as I love Tennessee football.

We had a party to go to Saturday night and I still managed to meet my goal of getting plenty of sleep. As usual we woke up today and headed to our weekly breakfast with Carla, Tyler and Gwen. Eggs Benny were calling my name and who am I to say no?

I made up for it with a solid workout in the afternoon and then sabotaged the whole thing with a bag of popcorn because I just can't stop myself. Seriously. I sat in the parking lot of the grocery store in a popcorn trance. My hand just wouldn't stop shoveling it into my mouth. It's a problem.

This week is looking super busy too - lots of painting, photo editing, work, and exercise.

Good thing I bought an extra bag of popcorn.

I Just Wanted To Ride A Ferris Wheel.

I've seen the signs for weeks. It's been announced on the radio every morning and all the kids at school were excited for it.

Somehow, in all my life, I've never been to a county fair.

Last Friday I decided that we had to go. We just had to. The stories I was hearing sounded hilarious. Cows? Goats? Cotton candy? All in one place?

I spent the day talking TC into it and then got on my phone in the afternoon to see what friends I could recruit.




The fair wasn't exactly in town. With fresh coffee in our hands on Saturday morning, we made the hour long drive out into the country.

I wasn't sure what to expect but every kid I talked to promised me there would be a ferris wheel. Really, that was the sole reason I wanted to go. I could just imagine the views we would see from the top. I envisioned a great big white ferris wheel with sparkling red, blue and yellow lights that would sway in the wind as we reached the top.





As we stood in line to buy our tickets, I stood on my tip toes trying to see if I could spot the ferris wheel. I could see a slide. I could see a carousel and games. But no ferris wheel. Maybe it was down the hill, I thought. Surely that's where it must be.





Once we were in it became very apparent that there was no ferris wheel. But, there was plenty of live stock! Several barns, in fact, filled with all kinds of farm animals to walk through.

This little goat must be something special because he had five different ribbons pinned above his stall.

The oxen were probably my favorite. They had gold capped horns and giant bells around their necks and they were absolutely gigantic.





With no ferris wheel to ride we spent some time watching a riding competition. As far as I could tell the goal was to ride your horse by the first barrel and grab a big stick. Then you rode as fast as possible to the other end of the ring, where you round another barrel and zip back to the first barrel and try to throw your stick back in. If you make it, the crowd cheers. If you miss, the crowd gives a collective Ohhhhhh... If you paid close enough attention you pick out the parents of the riders. They were the ones standing up with their fists clenched in anticipation.





Of course, there were also plenty of small animals to visit too. Chickens, rabbits, llamas, guinea pigs and even a donkey for Gwen to feed.





My personal favorite was the rows and rows of all the prize winning garden pieces. Sunflowers with blue ribbons, potatoes with red ribbons, peppers, corn, pies, carrots...if it can be grown, it can be judged in the county fair.

I was admiring some potatoes and wondering how exactly potatoes are judged when a nice man told me the blue ribbon potatoes belonged to his daughter. He then went on to show me the second place sunflower that his younger daughter had grown. I asked if they came straight from his backyard and he sort of laughed and said that no, the girls had grown them in the garden club at school. He went on to say that he was proud of his girls and proud to be part of the fair since it was such a nice way to bring their community together.





So, yeah. He's right. Sure, I wish there had been a ferris wheel. But it was an impressive display of community. Down to the cute kids making fresh squeezed lemonade, they were all working together and having a blast.





Ahhh, and my favorite moment at the end of the afternoon - Gwen taking her first ride on the merry-go-round. A little unsure at first, she quickly figured out to hold on and brightened right up with the music started. Based on the tears when she realized the ride was over, I'd say the day was a success....despite the missing ferris wheel.

Maybe next year...

Oh, and if we go next year I'm totally wearing a Duck Dynasty shirt with a picture of Phil on it so that I fit in with the rest of the crowd.

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.