Where is the most exciting place you have ever been? What made it interesting?

The most exciting place I've been to is Grand Cayman, in the British West Indies. It's gotta be exciting if you need a passport, right??

It was a once-in-a-lifetime trip, in a lot of ways. 2003 would have been the year of my parents 50th wedding anniversary. Rather than having the usual party with friends and relatives, my sisters and I decided to take them on a trip.

When my father was working, it was their intention to spend their “golden years” traveling. They had already been to many places, near and far, and were looking forward to seeing new ones as well as revisiting favorites. Unfortunately, even before he retired, my mom's health began to deteriorate. It wasn't very long before traveling was too difficult. She was ill more often than not, and had difficulty get around physically.

So, when this milestone anniversary came near, we thought we'd take them on one last trip (although no one actually said that out loud). We would all go, so my sisters and I could help take care of Mom, and Dad could relax and enjoy himself, too.

After searching and searching we found the perfect place. It was beautiful, as you would expect! Right on the ocean, it had 4 bedrooms, a pool, deck area, a gazebo at the shoreline, and a boardwalk from the house to the gazebo (by this time, Mom pretty much only got around in a wheelchair). It was obscenely expensive, as you would also expect, but we knew it would be worth it.

Mom passed away the August before the trip. Of course, she wouldn't have wanted us to cancel the trip, so we went, and had a great time. That hardly does the trip justice, but I'm trying to not write a novel, here!

What made Grand Cayman interesting, I think, was that it was just so different from anything I am used to. By the end of May, Minnesota is usually very nice weather-wise. Everything is green and growing again, and the temps are getting warmer and warmer. Spring breezes can still be appreciated after the winter, but summer humidity and bugs haven't come yet.

Grand Cayman was a pleasant-summer warm. Not too hot, but warm enough for swimming and shorts, and laying in a hammock in the shade. The breeze off the ocean was constant. We were there for just about a week, and toward the end I was finally feeling like I was getting used to it.

There was white sand everywhere. Palm trees. Strange birds, little critters scurrying around, fish in colors I didn't think Mother Nature could create. Even the produce at the little grocery stores looked weird to me. We were able to have a private “tour” of the place known as Sting Ray City, where the rays flock to be fed by tourists (yes, they really are like giant portobello mushrooms), and snorkeling excursions. We ate fresh, fully ripened mangoes for breakfast every day and listened to Margaritaville and other steel drum music by The Barefoot Man. We visited a farm and museum dedicated to sea turtles.

I wish Mom could have gone with, but she was a very common topic of conversation. We cried and laughed and reminisced, and we knew she was with us in spirit.

What color was your home, bedroom, living room as a child?

"The blue house, on the right, after the stop sign." That's what I'd say when friends' parents would drive me home. For a while, it was "the SECOND blue house" when one of the neighbors repainted, but I think I was driving myself around for the most part shortly after that. Or, maybe everyone knew by then which house was mine.

There were 3 bedrooms on the main level of the house. One was obviously always my parents' room. The other two rooms rotated. (The same thing happened throughout my current family's lives in this house, so maybe that's common?) One room, I'm told was where my grandfather stayed when he lived with my family. After he passed, and I was born, it became my nursery. My two sisters shared the 2nd bedroom. My eldest sister eventually wanted more privacy, so she moved into bedroom #1 on her own. (Why she had my dad remove the door so she could hang strings of beads in the doorway if she wanted privacy, I don't understand...)That put me and sister #2 in bedroom #2. Things aren't completely clear in my head, but it seems to me that the room was either pink or a lighter shade of lavender.

When I was in Junior High (circa late 1970's) we needed more space. The choices were to move into a bigger house, or remodel the basement, creating a family room, and another bedroom and bathroom. (Four females is a lot to put one bathroom through!) They decided to remodel. Sister #1 got first choice of bedrooms. She chose the new one in the basement. Sister #2 got the next choice, she chose the room Sister #1 vacated. That left me in only room I remembered, and really don't recall having a problem with that. I was going to be ALONE!!! That was the important thing. Privacy, personal space... After years of sharing a room, it sounded like heaven. I didn't care where I was!

Little did I know that years later, when Sister #2 and I were much older, we'd revert back to sharing a room (sometimes even a bed!) if mom and dad were gone for the night and we'd hear noises and creaks in the dark house. But, I digress....

After a short period of time, I started to contemplate repainting my room. My parents were hesitant of my choice of green, but they eventually agreed. They even had green carpet put in, which I'm sure wasn't their first choice. I never regretted the green, and I hope they were ok with it overall. I know that the freedoms they gave me allowed me to be more accepting of my daughter's choice of bright white walls with large black circles painted on them...and a black ceiling. Hmm. I even helped paint.

As for the rest of my childhood home, I really don't remember specific colors on the walls. Just the feelings of being in a particular room.

The family room: Watching TV with my family, playing bumper pool during slumber parties with my friends, playing cards and games at the big round game table we all helped my mom refinish, folding laundry while watching the Vikings on Sunday afternoon.

The living room: The more formal room of the house, that's where we hung out with "COMPANY" or aunts and uncles on holidays.

The kitchen: Wow. So many memories. Watching an old B&W TV while my mom made dinner, standing on a chair at the sink washing dishes, rolling Russian Tea Cake cookies in powdered sugar with my grandma, cleaning strawberries we'd just brought home from the U-Pick farm (we didn't eat too many while cleaning them because we'd eaten so many already while picking them!), the smells of certain foods coming from the stove or oven, sitting on the floor--covered with newspaper--carving pumpkins, being scolded for one thing or another, dyeing Easter eggs, getting help with homework, making homemade lollipops with my sister (#2) they day we skipped school together (she made me, I swear)... I could go on forever.

In fact, my oldest memory takes place in that kitchen. Sitting at the table with my mom dunking toast in her coffee. In my mind I see that "ritual" as something special she and I did after my sisters went to school, maybe so I wouldn't feel like I was missing out because I wasn't big enough to go to school yet. I don't know if that's really the reason we spent that little bit of alone time together, but that's the story I'm going with!

Is Farm-Livin' the Life for Me?

Last week, I went to visit a farm in Wisconsin. The purpose of my visit was to meet the owner, see the farm itself and talk about the possibility of an internship this summer.

I was very impressed with the whole operation, what she has done with her land thus far, and what her plans for the future are.

Over our adult lives (using the term "adult" loosely, of course!), my husband and I have evolved from kids, really, growing and learning about each other and ourselves, to parents, growing and learning about what is REALLY important in our own little corner of the world, to "empty-nesters" still growing and learning, and asking ourselves, "What's next?"

Like many people, we've grown tired of the Rat Race. What better time to look at a career/lifestyle change than now, when the kids are grown and on their own? For years, we have talked about owning and running a B&B. When we've traveled, we've poured over travel guides and real estate brochures. We gone as far as New Mexico to see a B&B for sale.

As we've grown and evolved, so has our dream. Now we find ourselves also seeing the potential in a farmstay. This new kind of vacation option gives guests the ambiance of a B&B with opportunities not found in a more tourist-centered setting. These learning opportunities could include taking care of farm animals, learning about organic gardening, becoming more aware of the connection between people and the land, where our food comes from, how to make more ecologically sound choices in our lives, etc., etc. The possibilities, I think, are endless.

A summer internship on a farm seems like an ideal way to really learn what it could be like. When I found out about this particular farm in Wisconsin, it seemed like it could be a good match for me.

There are others that are applying for this position, so we'll see!!!

How did you meet your spouse?

We met in high school. At the time, we were dating other people, so we weren't really "high school sweethearts". He seemed like a nice enough boy, but I had my eye on someone else (silly me!). The school year went on, and I'm sure I saw my future husband from time to time, but it wasn't like a fairy tale. It wasn't like, BAM! "I'm gonna marry that guy some day!" But, when my friend Laura asked me to go with her to his graduation party, I said yes.

The bits and pieces from that party I remember: His family had moved the dining room table against the wall to accommodate the buffet-style food, and I bumped my head on the hanging lamp a half-dozen times. I remember his dad, a tall, imposing figure, but, so friendly and welcoming. And I remember, when it was time for Laura and I to leave, we talked with my husband-to-be. He said he had enlisted in the Army, and was leaving in just a few weeks. I gave him my address when he said he was looking for people to write with.

He wrote, and I wrote back. Over and over. Again and again. It became regular enough that the mailman (you could call them that back then) would ring the doorbell when one of his letters came. We learned so much about each other through those letters. We learned more than I realized at the time.

Twenty-six years later, I look back at who we were then, and I know we are two completely different people. And, I know if we had spent that time without each other, we wouldn't be the same, either. For better or worse, he has impacted who I have become, and I have impacted him, as well. (I think it's been for the better!)

But, this is supposed to be about how we met, and I guess I've covered that!

Describe your Sundays as an adult.

There was a time, when my Sundays (as an adult) were filled with laundry, grocery shopping, homework helping, errand running, etc. Now, well, for the last...yikes, 8 years or so, my jobs have required working weekends. I try to focus on the positives of this. If your "weekend" is, say, Monday and Tuesday, there are less people in the stores, on the roads, etc. But, when family and friends want to socialize on normal weekends it gets sticky.

Still, by now, family and friends have learned that I need a weeks' notice to get Sunday morning off work if you want me to socialize on Saturday night!

Back to the subject: My current job (a boarding kennel) does not have set schedules for us. So, I may be off, but I may be starting at 6 a.m., 9 a.m., noon or 3 p.m. I love my job, but I really do miss a regular, consistent schedule. Sigh...

Tell about a favorite vacation from your childhood

Most of my childhood-vacation memories are really just bits and pieces. Unfortunately, I think I was a little too young to remember a lot of the family trips we took. But, I do remember:

Setting our helium balloons loose in a park before our flight home from a trip to Chicago (I think I also left my Thumbelina doll on the plane, too. Still haven't completely recovered from that trauma.)

Leaving my shoes in countless campsites

Seeing Mount Rushmore and the Bad Lands, The Golden Gate Bridge, Great Salt Lake, an island in a lake in Canada that looked like a person laying down on his back

Being left behind at a gas station

Arguing, laughing, sleeping, playing with my sisters in the back seat

My parents cooking meals over a campfire

Not wanting to get out of my warm sleeping bag in the chilly morning but knowing there'd be hot water on the fire for cocoa if I did

Hiking; exploring; horseback riding

The excitement of staying in a HOTEL for once....and it even had a POOL

Hours and hours and miles and miles in the car

Singing songs, playing I Spy, tracking license plates from different states

Stopping at state lines for the obligatory photo opportunity

Wake-up ducks in San Diego

Disneyland, Disney World, Sea World, Universal Studios

Lists, lists, and more lists

Learning all about the Donner Party

The Florida Keys

The feeling that, no matter how great the vacation was, it was always good to be back home.

Journal in a Jar

For Christmas this year, I gave my husband a "Journal in a Jar." Inside a decorative jar, I put lots and lots of strips of paper. On each strip of paper is a question or statement. "What is your favorite...." "Describe your....." etc. This project is designed to help someone create a journal of their life, their past, their future. As he goes through the jar, I will be stealing strips of paper and blogging here MY responses to the statements. I can't promise to follow along EVERY day, but we'll see! Other thoughts may cross my mind from time to time, and I'll blog about that too, but in the J-I-J section will be these posts. Stay tuned!!!