Bat Country Living, Yee Haw!

Bought a farmhouse in the country! 

Get the bats out. Let the cleaning begin. Kilz the mold. Bring the bed in.

A party with a fire. A fire with friends.

It's all an adventure. With a hole in the ceiling as a jumping off--

Point.

The yard needs a mowing. The tractor has a flat. 

Again, have I mentioned the colony of bats?

Through rotted fascia, to a comfy batcave, getting lost in the walls, finding home in the crawlspace, under the kitchen, next to a musty dirt pantry. This is life, for Dan and me.

We built a wall. A spackling, I begin. Doors here. Doors there. New doors everywhere.

Paint it. Paint it all. Just keep plugging until we fall.

Its coming clear. Actually, its all coming near. 

We move in two days. New job starts Monday! 

So, ready or not, we are here.

DON'T FORGET THE TOILET PAPER BAG!

Grand Canyon Adventure

Day One - Travel

It’s morning. I mean, morning, morning; like 5 a.m. We are up and at 'em, movable-like, but only stumbling awake. 

The sounds of a Monty Python documentary play in the background as I search for whatever it is I fear I am forgetting. 

“Did I,” followed by dot, dot, dot, floats in my head. Normally it’s the usual suspects like toothbrush, passport, license, cash, etc. 

Instead I find myself wondering if I packed a plastic bag to hold wadded toilet paper for outdoor toilet time.

For the record I did forget a bag. I made do. 

PACKING ITEMS:

Water Bottles

Hiking Boots

Long Sleeved Shirts

Favorite Hiking Shorts

Sunscreen

Tweezers

Bandages (Just in Case!)

Water Shoes

Camera

"Over the Edge" Grand Canyon Death Toll Book

LOTS of Socks

Why do I feel like I'm forgetting something?

LATER

We forgot the informational packet with the Hualapai Lodge address as well as directions. Google maps is a saving grace. 

This time.

Who Gives the Stink Eye to Runners?

I'm running to Dunn Bros from our house to check on my collage exhibition. It's 1.5 miles away. More importantly, it's hot.

I'm really not feeling this running thing. But gosh darn it, I'm going to make it there and back! I sound much more adamant than you should believe. Why? Because I asked Dan to come looking for me if I wasn't back in an hour.

Puffing and heaving with no fluid motion in sight I make it to Dunn Bros. Finally air conditioning! The smell of coffee beans in the air. I peruse my art. Make some notes. Looks good. 

What else is there left to do? I can only fiddle around for so long. Fine. Gripe to self. Start running back.

I take off! The wind not touching my hair and sunshine beating down on my back. I'm one street crossing away from the path that leads me home. Sweet home. I look both ways. Clear as a whistle. I start wobbly running across the street when I feel an unexpected breeze. A truck has whipped around the corner and suddenly I'm almost body planted in his grill. Does the guy with wrap around sunglasses, polo shirt and red beard even see me?

Not until I screamed in fear! He looked in surprise. Then made a disgusted face and peeled off.

I mean, it's hard enough running, as I've expressed, but if I continually have to worry not just about getting squashed by inconsiderate drivers, but about receiving the stink eye because they didn't see me, I'm going to get a dang complex here.

Point of the story, it's difficult enough to run, but when you make a face at me, it hurts my feelings.

Start seeing runners and save my fragile ego. Or something like that.

And dude with the tude, you suck.

A Garden Metaphor Perhaps

Im starting to think a garden is, of course life, but more so all different ideas of what a life can and will be.

Like my garden, in its current existence, contains cut off milk cartons, plants leaning heavily to one side, strangling themselves because I planted too close, the roots are busted, vines growing on the lawn chair, peed on by our dog and for some reason covered in sap. Heck, Dan just sneezed right on the beans twice.

But they are growing like a child being fed non steroid food- a steady and healthy pace with no sudden allergies to wheat.

Gardens take all different shapes just as life and goodness can grow anywhere. Including the patio of a town home in Oakdale, Minnesota. 

MY KAYAK WENT BACKWARDS

I had rocks in my shoes.

I hit several trees.

Waded butt deep twice.

Floated backwards while paddling in forward motion.

Saw a baby otter swim across the river to his very vocal mother who thought us loons for swooning over them and getting stuck on trees.

Hit canyon walls.

Stuck on sand bars and rocks.

I said words I shouldn't have.

Accidentally sprayed sunscreen in my eye.

Kayaking is fun.

***We rented through River Guide Kayaks. They are a fledgling company with lots of heart and a soda in hand for us when we finished. They also were half the price of the other company in town and carried our kayaks to the river for us.

www.riverguidekayaks.com/

 

Kayak spelled backwards is kayak. I need to stop writing the word kayak.

 

KAYAK!  

BRING ME TO THE BATCAVE

I'm going to take a swim in Havasu Falls. All that magnesium that makes the water so blue has got to be helpful to my digestive tract, eh?

I imagine I will be kicking my little legs in a swimming fashion behind the falls, crawling up the slick rocks to find the rock shelter known to be hidden by the falling waters.

I hope there are no bats. Hate bats. But if there are, it will still be worth it.

You know how I know,  because in Idaho we trekked up a mountain in search of healing hot springs. As we struggled with lung pressure, heights and a quick acclimation to altitude, we continually heard, "15 more minutes!" from our momentarily disowned friend as we wondered out loud, "Why are we doing this?" 

We made it. We healed.

But behind those healing springs was it's water source; a dark, mossy cave of wonder. I pushed aside the concerns of what was swimming in those waters or hiding in that soft moss and crawled in.

The warm water dripped from the ceiling splashing our faces and hair. Laughs escaped our throats covered in sheer joy and exhilaration.

A memory of my mother falling into the cave with a huge smile plastered on her face will never be forgotten. Of course, I have a photograph to back that up.

Now we are starting our workout preparations for another trek, this time into a canyon which houses those magnesium falls and another potential cave of wonder...

Or Batman's home.  

GRAND CANYON it is!

Goodbye Okinawa...

Hello GRAND CANYON!

Don't worry readers, I haven't gone far. Just taking a break before diving back into the Compulsive World that I inhabit.

Know trips are in planning process, put on cards, and work is a constant movement to pay with a flurry all that is to happen this year.

It's an exciting time, people. You won't be left out.

Time to see the world! 

 

FLU an Ode

flu.

in messy dreams.

work.

france and eiffel.

cold.

switzerland. floating head. he groans.

puppies on my lap.

warm.

okinawa.

where's the money?

lost money.

work.

numbness. in my neck.

FLU!

all the energy i have.

dan needs boots.

hot.

no, cold.

not hungry.

sneeze. head. hurt.

the shining.

get it.

fluuuuuuuuuuuuuu.

I FEAR NO LIFE, I FEAR NO DEATH...I FEAR NOT LIVING

Today is a day I think of prancing, dancing and all that falls in between....

Las Vegas, Ireland, Okinawa, Prague...

My mind has wandered to places I've been, places I should be, places I will be.

With a pancreas not working but feeling kinda pretty I find myself feisty...

Ready to see things (Terracotta Soldiers, Great Wall of China, etc.), do things (like snowshoe, ski, hike, climb and run), eat things (you name it, lets try it) and be a part of the world like we are all meant to be.... I feel amazing.

For now.

I continue treatment, starting Monday, and it always rips me right down the center causing pain, instability and strife. But before that happens I want to remember how joyful, spritely and full of life I am.

I would sing the highest note of "Edelweiss" on the mountain top, prance to music with any beat to step to, climb the highest 8000 meter mountain, run the longest time (Billy Joel), cry with the strongest love and feel the most moments that a mind can allow. I am alive.

Though at this point, I only feel well enough to work almost 40 hours a week, but considering where I was 6 months ago, those almost 40 hours could be gold. The days I don't sleep 15 hours a day are worth laughing with. The nights not in stomach pain and rolling around with aching fullness, they are spent sleeping.

Sleeping. I sleep again. I wake again. And don't want to go to sleep again. I want to face the world. Not fearful but ready for life. Ready for whatever it throws. Ready to laugh.To be. To be me. 

A me not defined by illness. A me not defined by sickness. Or pancreas. Or broken digestive tract or irresponsible gallbladder.

A me who is just me. Weird me. Me.

I like cheese. I skipped today. WE ALL SHOULD! I laughed. Kissed my man. Chased two puppies up and down the stairs until one puppy slammed the other puppy into the door frame and that puppy hurt himself (aka Indy).

I have a family. They expect me to survive. I expect to live as an alive person is allowed.

Treatment Monday, yes I am scared. But no treatment Monday, is so much more wrong. Sick and wrong...and very, very bad.

I write this not to get a response, I write this to say I am alive. My pancreas is not. But fuck it, I am. And, if treatment goes well, it will be too.

Whether it fucking wants to or not.

Wish me luck. I wish you luck. And love and life.

Cause we all deserve that.

-With all thats yours, ours and mine,

Nerissa (aka, the Compulsive Traveler)

Book Review: Not Everyone Poops by Nerissa N. Nordquist

Book Review: Not Everyone Poops by Nerissa N. Nordquist

Hey all!

Here is a book review for "Not Everyone Poops" by Hannah Harvey from Isle of Wight, England.

Enjoy.

EGG NOG, BIG LEBOWSKI and EASY CHEESE

Big Lebowski.

Phase 10.

Chess Board.

 

Easy Cheese.

Salami Roll.

String Cheese.

French Bread.

Pizza Lunchables.

Bananas.

 

Mulled Wine.

Jameson.

 

Crockpot.

Eating Utensils.

 

Towels. (Not Provided.)

 

Presents!

 

Puppy Crate.

Bones.

 

Puppies.(With waggy butts!)

 

Us. (Plastered Smiles!)

 

DUTCH OVEN HERE WE COME!!

 

Technically it is called Dutch Cottage

(300 sq. ft. Cabin)

found in Hayward, Wisconsin,

at

Mallard's Landing.

 

It's our annual Christmas Celebration!

 

and

 

The Dude Abides.

KID ROCK, YOU'RE RIGHT

Kid Rock was on to something.

Rough, rowdy, tough, hardworking, and freedom-loving is the description to a breed that I wonder exists anymore.

I'm talking Cowboys, here.

I mean, they must right?

Maybe they struggle through 9-5 jobs silently pondering an existence outside the barriers of city life.

Maybe they rock climb or attempt Everest or it's sister K2.

Knit? Bake cookies or wait, Cupcake Wars competitor?!

Alaskan crab fisherman? How very cowboy-esque. 

So is PTA President minus the political BS.

A break dancer? Party Planner? Dog Walker? Zombie Killer? Doomsday Planner?

Where do you go? Where do you belong when what you are built to do or be in life, just doesn't exist anymore or worse, you watch the declination of your livelihood without a chance of revival.

At one point you realize you will be put out to pasture with your job title and find yourself donning fine wool socks, ironing your slacks, and buttoning your shirt for your job interview at Abercrombie or whatever seasonal work you can scrounge together while figuring out how to create a resume.

It's a rant.

It's a rant for no reason other than I saw a mountain backdrop in a shitty commercial and realized how deeply I wanted to climb those mountains, ride a horse, prance in the sun, kick some dirt, spit some seeds, and feel the breeze.

I want to be a cowboy. Or I want to feel what the cowboy represents to me.

Today, my pancreas hurts. I feel trapped by it. I feel out to pasture. So passe. I know it will pass. But today, bear with me, I just really want to be a fricken cowboy.

PONY EXPRESS in Flurry Conditions

With all this snow I find myself prancing. I can't help it. It's so white and beautiful, adding a reflection of light to a sky that otherwise would be overcast, allowing dreary thoughts to seep into the bones.

Instead a shovel finds my hands with glee as I skid, hop, slide and fall up and down our driveway and street giggling like a giddy fool.

My freedom to fly high with fluttering excitement is a direct correlation to the amount of giddiness within me. 

So what am I doing inside?

 Giddy-up little prancing pony, it's time to fly.

BRAIN BLIP

Redwood National Park is 8 hours and 2 minutes from Seattle, Washington.

Hmm...

FREE WINE and Sleigh Rides

I am going to the 2012 St. Paul Ice Fishing and Winter Sports Show tomorrow!!! I'm so excited.

9 dollars a ticket.
http://marinesource.com/boat_shows/St-Paul-Ice-Fishing-and-Winter-Sports-Show.html


Then we are going to Creative Cottage in Afton, Minnesota to experience their Winter Festival and, as an artist who is showcasing collage art there, showing my face in hopes of selling a few pieces of work.

Be there or miss out on awesome, one of a kind artwork, by yours truly.

PS-It's free wine and sleigh rides if you're in to that. So, you know, it has its perks.

5-8 pm in Afton, Minnesota.

CALLOUSES BY GROUPON

My left arm is sore and three fingers on my right hand are numb with large callouses forming. All thanks to Groupon.

Two hours of my day were spent holding a bow and arrow with only minimal pause to retrieve our arrows and slurp some soda. Our lesson was all of 5 minutes long. Perfect length I must say. Then we were free to shoot. Two hours of target practice and not to TOOT, TOOT, TOOT, the Nerissa horn but my aim kinda rocks! Sometimes. The other times are not recorded by photograph and will quickly fade from my happy memory.

It's a great monetary deal and a truly fun time with whomever you share it with.

High Five Archery in Stillwater, Minnesota, would love to see you there.
http://www.highfivearcheryonline.com/leaguesandlessons.html

The prices without a Groupon are $6.00 an hour not including bow and arrow rental. But with our Groupon we paid $25 for two hours of target practice, bow and arrow rentals, the 5 minute tutorial AND pizza!

It really doesn't get too much more awesome than that.

I'M LIKE SANTA WITH THIS LIFE LIST

I ate raw oysters at Craft Steak in Las Vegas (Hello Top Chef JudgeTom!)

And, CHECK! That's off my life list.

But unlike jumping out of an airplane I would for sure do it again and soon.

Airplane...mmm, maybe someday when I'm super bored and have an extra 200 lying around I'd take the leap again.

You know world, I'm blowing through this list so fast, I might have to add more life adventures to partake in and sights to see.

I'm up for suggestions.

TOP CHEF, I'm Sorry

Okay, so I watch Top Chef. I admit it. There is nothing wrong with it. I'm not defensive. You're defensive. Maybe I'm just messing with you.

There is a reason though. For the messing that is.

FOOD TRUCKS!

Yes. Pods of Food Trucks. Where you ask? What is she babbling on about? How is this related to Top Chef? Why do I suddenly care?

Portland, Oregon is beautiful, friendly, clean, and feels, in many ways, like the Twin Cities, BUT it has one thing the Cities does not. Yep, you guessed it. Food TRUCK PODS!

Food Truck Pods are like enjoying the State Fair every day in a parking lot in the middle of the city.

Each truck has it's own type of food fare from the Grilled Cheese Truck (very popular) to Vietnamese (always a favorite) to Greek or even Japanese if you so desire. I desired and ate a very spicy tuna roll.

It's like a half a block encircled with food! And if you don't find your hearts desire at that Pod you can walk three blocks down to another Pod which will most definitely carry a different fare of food.

I don't know why our Uptown Area in Minneapolis or even Downtown Minneapolis hasn't invested in this idea. I would eat there every day!

So many choices in cuisine for awesomely cheap prices. Service is quick but made to order and if you are with friends or family it easily becomes a smorgasbord of sharing.

Even if you are experiencing the Pod by yourself, you are not alone. The Food Truck Pods are crowded and bustling with people buzzing with food option excitement. It's definitely like the water cooler of who's who, eating what type of food.

I first learned about Food Trucks and the Pods from Top Chef. I thought they were crazy. It sounded like greasy and expensive fast food.

I was wrong. I'm wrong Top Chef. You were right when you said it was the wave of the future. You were right when you said that healthy options on a Food Truck could be possible while not skimping on the flavor.

I concede.
 

A Traditional Turkey Day Song

In the spirit of Thanksgiving Day I share this special holiday song that brings a turkey flutter to the belly; courtesy of thee Adam Sandler:


The Thanksgiving Song

Love to eat turkey
Love to eat turkey

Love to eat turkey
'Cause it's good
Love to eat turkey
Like a good boy should
'Cause it's turkey to eat
So good

Turkey for me
Turkey for you
Let's eat the turkey
In my big brown shoe
Love to eat the turkey
At the table
I once saw a movie
With Betty Grable
Eat that turkey
All night long
Fifty million Elvis fans
Can't be wrong
Turkey lurkey doo and
Turkey lurkey dap
I eat that turkey
Then I take a nap

Thanksgiving is a special night
Jimmy Walker used to say Dynomite
That's right
Turkey with gravy and cranberry
Can't believe the Mets traded Darryl Strawberry
Turkey for you and
Turkey for me
Can't believe Tyson
Gave that girl V.D.

White meat, dark meat
You just can't lose
I fell off my moped
And I got a bruise
Turkey in the oven
And the buns in the toaster
I'll never take down
My Cheryl Tiegs poster
Wrap the turkey up
In aluminum foil
My brother likes to masturbate
With baby oil
Turkey and sweet potato pie
Sammy Davis Jr.
Only had one eye

Turkey for the girls and
Turkey for the boys
My favorite kind of pants
Are corduroys
Gobble gobble goo and
Gobble gobble gickel
I wish turkey
Only cost a nickel
Oh I love turkey on Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving everybody!

To give a listen:
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2010/11/24/adam-sandlers-thanksgivin_n_788173.html

GOBBLE DAY FUNNIES 2012

Here are some quotable quotes

to liven your 

THANKSGIVING 

holiday!

 

“I celebrated Thanksgiving in an old-fashioned way. I invited everyone in my neighborhood to my house, we had an enormous feast, and then I killed them and took their land.” –Jon Stewart

 

“What we’re really talking about is a wonderful day set aside on the fourth Thursday of November when no one diets. I mean, why else would they call it Thanksgiving?” –Erma Bombeck

 

“You know that just before that first Thanksgiving dinner there was one wise, old Native American woman saying, “Don’t feed them. If you feed them, they’ll never leave.” –Dylan Brody

 

May your stuffing be tasty
May your turkey plump,
May your potatoes and gravy
have nary a lump.
May your yams be delicious
and your pies take the prize,
and may your Thanksgiving dinner
stay off your thighs!
–Unknown

 

“Turkey: A large bird whose flesh, when eaten on certain religious anniversaries
has the peculiar property of attesting piety and gratitude.” – Ambrose Bierce

 

“An optimist is a person who starts a new diet on Thanksgiving Day.” Irv Kupcine

 

“I love Thanksgiving turkey … it’s the only time in Los Angeles that you see natural breasts.” –Arnold Schwarzenegger

 

HAVE A SAFE AND

HAPPY

THANKSGIVING DAY!