a day in the life of...

i'm back! and thus ending my self-imposed bloggy hiatus. i thought about giving a recap of my fantastic family birthday week, but then i was bored with that idea about five seconds later. instead, i think i'll share a story with you today that seems to parallel my life in many ways.

it was saturday morning, september 19th. i woke up a thirty year old woman, wife, and mother, yet i felt no different than i had the day before, or the day before that.

by 8:30 the sunshine was bright and warm, yet kind enough to leave a crispness in the air that, to me, defines a typical autumn day. b was officially on toddler time while monster and i were free to enjoy the perfect weather.

that's right, my birthday present to myself was a day in the woods with my dog while my husband stayed home with the kid.

i'll skip the details about monster's severe car anxiety and tendency to puke in my lap or near my lap, and instead i'll just say that we headed north toward a trail dubiously called silver mine. there may or may not be an actual mine in the area, but there definitely is an old lean-to that's creepy enough to pass for the blair witch's vacation home.

leading off from the parking area is a huge open field, often hosting a few canadian geese lucky enough to have found the well-hidden spot. on one side of the field is a small lake. the trail starts towards the back end of the lake and hugs its side for a short distance before delving deep into thick towers of oaks and maples.

monster and i began to navigate the path of basketball-sized boulders, most likely laid down to hold the loose soil around the base of the lake. we proceeded to follow the small yellow rectangle markers painted every so often on a tree at eye level. i don't know much about photography, or lenses, or lighting, but i took a few pictures with my trusty canon in hopes of capturing some of the beauty to take home with me.




as far back into my memory as my mind's eye can see, i have always been drawn to forests. i imagine the trees standing as tall guardians to whatever mystery lies within their fortress of bark and leaves. the temptation to crawl, push, or otherwise break through their defenses is still so irresistible to me. i can't drive on a wooded road without my gaze being drawn like a magnet to the side, wondering what exists there that i'm not seeing.

that morning in silver mine, i was lost, captivated by such sounds as a sole acorn dropping and leaves rustling high above my head. the view of the lake to my left and an ever increasing rise to my right were made of more riveting material than i had seen in a long time.

i wandered off the trail in my distracted state. i couldn't have gone far, i had just passed a marker. as i paused and looked around, monster suddenly dashed about twenty feet to the side and froze. i went to him and sure enough, directly above where he stood was the next trail marker. sometimes he drives me crazy, but in that moment, watching my dog so proud of himself for leading me back to the trail, all the puke piles and ripped furniture were forgotten.

we continued for a while until we reached the part that i knew led to the creep-shack. i turned to head back to the car. b and i had big plans that night and i wanted to make it out of silver mine for my date.

as we emerged from the mouth of the trail, i turned and took one last picture of the path.


the field lay open before us and monster seemed to have an itch he needed some help with.


i laughed watching him roll carefree through the grass. after a few minutes i called him over to put his leash on as i saw a man with his dog approaching. i reached out to grab his collar and was surprised to feel some foreign matter stuck in between the metal rings.

i saw it before i smelled it. monster's neck and collar were covered in shit. i can't tell you if it was from another dog, a small horse, or the blair witch herself, but it sure didn't come from monster.

looking down at my feces covered finger, my ethereal mood vaporized as if it had never been. i cursed my dog's disgusting bad luck to roll around in a giant field and find the only shit spot. i fumed about my lack of proper cleaning materials. but mostly, i marveled at the irony that for the entire twenty-five minute drive back home, it was i who was choking back vomit as my car-sick monster tried repeatedly to climb in my lap with his shit covered neck.

the c is not the same as the one in pc

today i am so pleased to present you with mr. c's first ever guest post. he usually reserves his great point and laugh stories for his blog, advice and humor from mr. condescending. i once promised him i'd never let the truth slip out about his being such a nice guy. but then again, maybe i just want to believe that there's a little kitten underneath the scales and forked tongue. who knows. maybe you should just go to his blog and see for yourself.

oh, and mr. c, you have to ask a girl out before you can claim she stood you up! but we new yorkers have to stick together, so anytime you want to go for a hike and take more amazing foliage pics let me know.



Hello everyone my name is Mr C. It's short for "Condescending."

Lana asked me to do a guest post for her, but she shouldn't need to hire me because she's the condescending one. Her and Kristine from Wait in the Van refused to meet me at the Dutchess County Fair for prime loser spotting :(

Anyway, Lana was my 3rd follower so I forgave her and decided to do my first ever guest post here.

I just want to tell you some reasons I can sometimes live up to the name of Mr C, and at the end I'll tell you a terrible thing I said last week to someone, but it was funny too!

Recently I found myself in Target with my business partner looking for memory cards. Somehow I ended up tossing the most expensive one in the department's garbage can. It wasn't an open faced one, but he was upset I didn't say anything. Oh well.

I always come up with instantly mean things to say or do to someone, then my reasoning kicks in and I usually refrain from it. Similar to when you get cut off driving, and you instantly may wish they get in an accident, but then realize it was silly to think that. I recently thought of sneaking a photo of the nice girl that cashes my morning papers out and plopping it on my blog with connect the dots drawn all over her pimples, just because she has so many pimples.

She's always nice though, so I think I made the right decision not to. Now on the other hand, this slightly cocky guy sometimes is in the store to cash me out. He really doesn't seem like too bad a guy but he's about 4 feet tall or something and has a big head. I always referred to them as "midgets". I only learned recently on otin's blog that midget was actually a racist kind of word.

Last week I didn't see him working and I asked miss pimple face if "that guy" still worked there or did he get fired. The manager is right next to her and they both look confused and ask "what guy?" Now instantly I have to refer to his height in order to clarify who he was, but I didn't want to say midget so I'm thinking quickly of what the right word would be...dwarf? Nah that sounds bad, maybe elf? No! Crap, then I ran out of awkward time and blurted out "The Gnome?"

A lot of uncontrollable chuckles start coming from them, and me too, relieved.

And then I see the little guy in the back room on the computer, probably within earshot. Oh well!


Thanks for visiting Lana's blog!

bambi doesn't want to see your junk, and neither do i

i love to go hiking, whether by myself, with monster by my side, or just with some friends. i have been to many local parks and mountains nearby over the course of my years and have almost always enjoyed the feeling of being close to nature.

there was that one incident at weird mountain, but that's not where i'm going with this today.

no, today i'd like to talk about how hiking can be a pleasant experience, with your clothes on.

this morning, the one article that jumped out of my monitor and slapped me in the face was the one in which i read 'hikers who prefer clothes are not happy.'

now, i'm all about letting people decide whatever lame annual events they want to participate in, but just because there's a naked hiking day, doesn't mean that you can hate on me for wanting to walk through the woods with my clothes on.

i love natural crap as much as the next person, but you'll never find me using the summer solstice as an excuse to pretend i'm chilling with pan or diana, traipsing around in the buff.

and don't even try to pull that whole 'but it's easier to spot deer ticks' argument with me either. i can check for ticks just fine by pulling up my pant leg.

no, you silly nude hikers, you have no grounds to label me. in fact, it is i who can call you names. how about pedophile? do you like that one? because that's what you're going to be known as if someone spies your junk swinging in the breeze if they happen to be out hiking with their children.

if communing with nature was something that made you feel strongly enough to free yourself of your material shell on one specific day, than perhaps you should look into one of those off-the-grid habitats where your blatant disregard for social norms will be more accepted. that way you can go all out, literally i guess, if you wanted to.

and now, because i can, i will show you some pics of hiking + clothes + happiness.






even monster is smiling in these pics. you can't argue with that happiness.