A Foodie Tour Of Northwest Arkansas

As you read the title of this post you might be wondering, foodie, Northwest Arkansas? What? I was a skeptic too but I can now safely say some of the best eats in the Mid-South come from this region of Arkansas. Now that I live in Oklahoma, I see Arkansas as a vacation destination. I would have laughed at this just a few years ago, but now living down here I can see why. Northwest Arkansas is rugged and beautiful, and home to the Ozarks,  green and lush and full of flowers, hallows and rivers. There are all kinds of recreation to be had but also fun, little, quirky towns, with cultural sights and charm galore. Believe me you will want to visit if you ever end up near the Mid-South. We took this tour sans kids as an anniversary weekend, though most of the places were kid friendly and I am sure could be enjoyed by families. 

Our foodie tour starts in the quaint college town of Fayetteville. This town definitely has a collegiate feel and also some fun, old Victorian, Southern bungalows and public art  making it feel alternative and funky. The restaurant we stop at is called "Arsaga’s At The Depot." Part cafe, part restaurant The Depot serves up indy, haute cuisine and drinks in a laid back Southern setting. An old train station that houses multiple stores, The Depot is behind the Chipotle and can be recognized for its large planters filled with herbs and veggies they use in the restaurant. Upon entering you are met by a staff in vintage dresses or casual, gender neutral clothing. This place feels like a little bit of Olympia, Washington with a Southern twist. We end up on the patio on a humid 100-degree day, but its shady and large and makes you feel like a southern belle. We order drinks, the Fairchild, perfect for a hot day, a peach, mint and coconut milk drink, and the Japanther, a Japanese cold brew coffee with fruit, both absolutely delicious.

For lunch I get the Redmond, a sandwich specially prepared on a buckwheat crepe since I don't eat gluten. The flavor combinations are exquisite in this sandwich, a combo of modern American, Asian and health nut influences that somehow meld together perfectly. The buckwheat crepe is light and crispy and provides a perfect side bread for the pickled sesame carrots topped with a creamy soft-boiled egg and miso infused sweet potatoes. There is a fresh green sauce that comes along with it and a field greens salad, fresh picked from the side of the restaurant. Daddy got their version of poutine or kimchi fries with brisket; we were blown away by the many combinations of “meal as fries” they had. So tasty! The place backs up against the old train track, which is now a bike path, we explore afterword, taking in the country scenery. This was a lovely city to start our food tour in. 

We next head to Eureka Springs Arkansas. This city is pure magic, a tourist town but super funky, artsy and unique. Chiseled into the side of rock, steep hills make up the geography of a town filled with Victorian buildings, trolley history and eclectic characters. Deep magic pools of cold spring water come pouring out the side of the hills and into gorgeous mini gardens nestled in-between fun touristy shops. We spent our last anniversary here and wanted to come back even if it was just for a day. The town is known for its good dining. 

“Le Stick Nouveau” is a fascinating French restaurant that takes you into the basement of the New Orleans Hotel. All is dark purple, lush and sparkly. A man played an electric violin and we were surrounded by large, billowy curtains pulled back with golden ropes strung with the kind of tassels one always wants to yank. Our waitress was very friendly and recommended a yummy appetizer of thin slices of raw beef that had been smoked. When she came out with the order it was presented in a glass container filled with smoke. Something about the glittery purple ambience, the violin player and the lady in a black corset bringing us a bowl filled with smoke made me feel like I was in a magic show. It was very fun and made me giggle all night. They also insisted on putting daddy's sparkling water on ice and filling it up like a wine glass, which made us laugh. The dish that stuck out the strongest was the duck A LA ‘Orange. This was enchanting; each mouthful more pleasant then the last with potatoes au gratin I wrote the recipe down it was so full of yummy flavor.

We worked off our affordable, enjoyable, French meal with a walk to the Basin Springs Downtown Park. There we were entertained by a hippie kid named Crayola singing with a ukulele and a couple of tango dancers we met last time we were here. We would have spent the night in Eureka Springs but we had tickets to a Chihuly exhibit in Bentonville Arkansas, so we departed at sunset for our Bentonville hotel.

Weird, wonderful and Walmarty Bentonville Arkansas is the birthplace of Walmart. Don’t let that information stop you from checking it out. While the town does have a lot of Walmarts and even a Walmart history museum it is also an international city for business; all the companies trying to sell to Walmart have hubs in Bentonville making it a fairly wealthy and international town. Hence the Chihuly glass exhibit at one of our favorite museums to check out in the area, Crystal Bridges. This museum houses beautiful and classic works of American art. The modern section is on point and the building itself is fascinating. It was built in a minimalist fashion meant to represent mounds of earth surrounding a creek. The harmony of art, architecture and nature is a pleasure to behold. Also Crystal bridges main exhibits are free and a brand new children's museum was built next-door making it a very kid-friendly place to visit. Crystal Bridges is the best reason to come to Bentonville but there are also some delicious eats to be had while in the city.

That morning we awoke to the fact that our hotel did not offer free, continental breakfast. Looking at the menu and the price we knew we could do better. A quick yelp search led us to “The Buttered Biscuit”. As a gluten free (GF) person I was not sure this would be the best place for me to eat but let me tell you I was wrong! They had delectable GF biscuits and gravy on the menu. This place had a French kitchen vibe, all blue, white and gold with chicken imagery in the corners.  The wait was not too long and everyone was friendly, very family oriented, I played with a little boy who was waiting next to me in line. Daddy got The Rue, a hollandaise Benedict with corned beef. I got the Goat Trail, a goat cheese and veggie omelet with a GF biscuit. All was delicious and very filling for our museum day. It was perfectly topped off with Onyx coffee lab bottomless cups of drip coffee. Onyx is a very unique and fancy coffee bar in the downtown square of Bentonville worth checking out. Onyx Coffee Lab makes you feel like you are in a hip, urban city and has all the fancy contraptions for delectable gourmet coffee.

The last stop on our foodie tour is one of our all-time favorites. As I mentioned before Bentonville is an international town and there is specifically a large Indian population. There are many Indian restaurants to choose from but our favorite is called “Flavors Indian Cuisine.” It has all the trappings of good Indian place.  The restaurant is in a strip mall, out of the way, Indian television is playing, the majority of the clientele are Indian and not all the food is labeled in English. This place is a buffet, the grandest buffet I have ever been too. It goes on and on, with different types of food from all the different regions of India. You can get the traditional, northern tikka masala here but also three different kinds of dal as well as dosa, idli and sambar and at least ten varieties of Indian desserts. 

They always have a vegetarian side of the food warmers with such tasty bites as fried ridge gourd, bitter melon curry and banana flower soup. There is also a spicy eggplant dish I delight in. It is best to come to this place hungry and eat your heart out. It could really be a one meal of the day kind of place. As we suck candied fennel on the way home, chai spice still in our mouths, I am pleased to put a bookmark at the end of this foodie tour.

Go to Northwest Arkansas, it is beautiful, full of culture and an un-trampled area for exploring with a flair of southern hospitality and good eating.

The Do-able Camping Trip: Tips on Camping with Little People

I always imagined we would be a camping family. Being outdoorsy and loving adventure the way I do, I saw camping as my family’s way of bonding and having a cheap alternative for vacation. While all this is true, it took us awhile to make it happen. I often run into the stumbling block of having a partner that does not feel the same way about prioritizing adventure, so it’s all on me to make these jaunts into the wild happen. Finally, last winter I set the intention that we would go camping Memorial day weekend and by gun, we did!

This trip went smoothly and it was fun.  Our camping trip included nostalgic experiences from my childhood, and a sense of awe for the beauty of late spring. We also stayed mostly in our budget! The trip included two adults, our 5 1/2 year old and an 11 month old. This trip went so well I am now on a mission to encourage more parents to take their young children camping. Most people I know think it’s a good idea to go camping but rarely get to make it happen. It can be daunting, what will we do all day? What if the kids can't sleep? What if terrible weather hits the campsite? I will lay out for you how to make camping with young children go well. I know you all can do it too!

 1. Keep the location simple. Families with young children need lots of uncomplicated time in nature to relax and discover the world around them. You don't have to go far from a city to find this. We asked friends for recommendations, checked out websites and looked at a book about camping in Oklahoma. I chose a site that was 1 hour from our home. The place had bathhouses, water pumps, a pool, a play ground, tent camping away from the RV's, and some nice, easy to manage trails. The location was ideal, far enough so that we felt we were having an adventure but close enough so we could come home quickly if we needed to. It was also in the country but close to a town where we could easily get amenities and play if we wanted to.


 2. Warm your kids up to the idea of camping ahead of time, and test all your gear beforehand.  I have talked up camping to Sweetpea for a while but since we have never gone she didn't really know what it would be like. A few days before the trip we set up our tent in the living room. She helped me put it together. We played in the tent most of the day and imagined what it would be like to be outside under the stars. I told her stories from my childhood camping and stories from when I got my own tent in my 20s and backpacked across Europe with it. As we went to put "Minerva" away one of the zippers broke. I was so sad to see my tent broken and knew we could not fix her before we left. When I told the news to daddy he said it was time to get a new tent. A big one our whole family could be in together. This is where we went over budget, but now we are the owners of a big, cushy tent we will be able to play with for years to come. 

3. Have a good mix of activities but don't pack too much into a day. With little ones its good to have two major parts to the day, but keep it to that. They mostly want to be in the rhythm they are at home only in this new, fun context. The day we did push it by renting a canoe for the evening lead to two whining and crying kids. Luckily near the end of the ride they both fell asleep and daddy and I got to have the awe filled experience of canoeing around in the evening. That said, we vowed to axe it next time.

4. Make your trip mostly tech free and plug into nature. Daddy definitely was checking his smart phone some by the campfire at night, but mostly we tried to leave the technology at home. I didn’t realize it was bothering me that he was on his phone till I saw him do it. To get him away from the screen I would just suggest we go for a walk to the look out and watch the stars. We also played cards by candlelight one evening. This opened time to using our senses and seeing more clearly what was around us. We took in the smell of the cook fire, strange bird calls, and the dazzle of late spring wild flowers. Our lives are often a buzz with technology, camping is a great chance to take a brain break from our phones and busy lives at home.

5. Keep the bar low for what your kids can do outdoors and they might surprise you. We took Sweatpea on mini hikes though out the campsite. We did not expect her to hike for hours in the heat; we just took her on the easiest trail and turned around whenever she was ready. Since she was leading, we ended up stopping a lot but that was good. She owned the hike and gave us a chance to take more pictures of wild flowers. When she would say she wanted to turn around sometimes I would push her and say maybe a little more? What’s beyond that bend? That sometimes worked and sometimes did not, either way we were building a relationship with nature and the more she got to decide how long she wanted to be away from camp, the more excited she was to go for a hike.

6. Always pack water, granola bars and Band-Aids before setting off anywhere. The first hike we went on was just to explore the camp ground. Sweatpea fell and scraped her knee halfway down a hill. She was super upset so I said I would go back to the campsite to get her a Band-Aid. While there I grabbed a few water bottles and granola bars. The band aid made her feel better and later on when we got a little lost following a deer path, the water made all the difference in us being able to happily finish our hike. Moral of the story, even for the shortest time out, make sure you have these things.

7. Don't let the threat of rain stop you. I think one of the major things that keep people away from camping is the fear of bad weather. I am here to tell you can even have fun camping while it is raining. If you prepare and have a good waterproof tent you can cozy a rainy afternoon away in your tent. Or, grab your boots and find puddles to splash in. Examine what the forest looks like before, during and after the rain. It is not a lot of fun cooking in the rain with no campfires, but the water can bring on other fun like playing with mud and telling stories about the rain. If you pick a campsite near a town you can even order pizza to go and eat it in your tent. Or go out for the meal and come back to your cozy tent that evening for playing cards and reading books. You can sleep with the peaceful sounds of raindrops. Rain also tends to clear out less intrepid campers so campsites are quieter. You feel like a real outdoors person after braving a few days outside in the rain. Also, nothing can beat the smell of trees and plants after rain.

8. Take advantage of all the things the park has to offer. The first thing I did after signing us in was look at all the brochures in the park’s office. I went over the map with the ranger and found out about all the cool things happening that weekend. We used the pool and the canoes. I bought a glow in the dark constellation bandana, and I got a fun mini passport book for Sweatpea for free. This booklet had all the state parks in Oklahoma and activities to do in each park. Activities included checking out special sights in the park, fun yoga moves, and a scavenger hunt on the trails. We did them all and she got a stamp at the end of our stay. There are so many fun and inexpensive ways to connect to nature in a park, it only takes time to look up info and ask around.

The hardest thing about camping with a baby was feeding her. The picnic bench was too much fun for her and she kept trying to stand up and eat. Her standing made her fall a lot and get food everywhere. I was a mess after every meal trying to hold food in my hand and put it in her mouth. I highly recommend some kind of traveling high chair for the baby stage of camping.  I also found it hard that she was crawling around in the dirt and putting everything in her mouth. Though this was challenging I still think it was important for her to explore and get dirty. We just changed clothes a lot, fished for rocks and acorns in her mouth and when I could not take it anymore, played in the tent or just put her in her carrier.  


Remember that adventure for your family is as simple as all sleeping in the same room with only a layer of tent separating you from the outside. Eating outside and seeing the stars are huge benefits as well. There is no need to plan a lot of stuff to do; the adventure is found in living outdoors for a small span of time.

 

The Value Of Adventure

Recently a fellow mom friend and I were talking. We were discussing all the amazing adventures we had in our young adult lives. We longed for that fresh-eyed perspective of youth, having new ground to walk on, new people to talk to and new sensory experiences that drew us to the present. As we have both gotten older, we have chosen to have families and the days of wild abandon had shifted. We missed that aspect of ourselves. 

By, Rosa Mund-Zander

As much as we were happy with the lives we had chosen, that need for adventure was sadly neglected. We talked about the realities of being lower income and money going to meet the basic needs of our family. We also talked about how it’s different adventuring with small children and or your partner, trying to meet everyone's needs and your own at the same time.

The conversation boiled down to we both felt like we did not have enough adventure, and how it was a value of ours. Re framing adventure as a value suddenly made this big ever present desire in me spark to life. I have spent a lot of my motherhood down playing this need of mine. It is always last on the list of what we need to put energy or money toward. My husband has been a huge stumbling block in the way of this value. He does not mean to be. He just feels that one of us has to be the practical one in this regard, so he takes on that role. It has been a source of discontentment sense we became parents. 

By, James Richards for wanderarti blog

Usually the conversation goes like this:" let’s go somewhere fun this year! I want to see our friends in the NW." To which he replies, "We can't afford that." "There are all different ways to travel, what about frequent flyer miles etc." "We need to pay off debt before we can go into more debt." Most of the time I feel ashamed of this desire, like I am not putting the needs of my family first. Why would I want to do something as frivolous as travel?

By re framing adventures into a value I looked at the situation differently. If I don't have fresh perspective, my creativity suffers. I become more jaded and melancholy. I can't enjoy the experiences in front of me as easily. I parent better when I have fresh eyes and new experiences under my belt. I can share this value with my children, and they see the spark of life in their mom and get excited too.

I am a restless soul and adventure is an important thing to honor in myself. By hiding this need I am hiding a big part of the magic that is me and I am not ok with that.

By, Candace Rardon on Wanderarti blog

So how do you do it? I am still figuring that out. It started with a big conversation with my husband. I let him know adventures were a value of mine and I could not neglect it even though money is very tight. Just saying this out loud helped to get the conversation going. I have also made a list of the adventures I want to have this year. These are my heart felt intentions and goals. I am not sure how they will happen, but just setting the intention makes me feel excited.

I am also narrowing my focus on what are things I see as necessary places to go, verses any whim or passion. I am assembling a list of local adventures to keep fresh eyes on the place I am living now. When I read about a new ethnic restaurant or market, it goes on to the list.  When I hear about a neat hiking trail, a good swimming hole or camping spot, they all go on the list. I also keep a list of adventures I want to have with the family and what I want to do alone or with friends. It is so good to prioritize self-adventures where I only have to meet my needs. Also to be ready for a family adventure knowing it will look different and be about the needs of all of us.

Seeing the value in adventures is leading me to show myself more while being a mom. It’s a win win.

Venezia: Perspectives On The City Of Canals

And now for a little travel post, a summer read for your pleasure:

Oh Venice, Venezia, the beautiful city, poetry in boat and bridge form. There sits the indy young female traveler. She unbuttons her leather gloves preparing to nibble a Margherita pizza at a tiny cafe on the harbor overlooking an ancient basilica, drinking in the ambiance. A Venetian woman hardened to the charms of this touristic wonderland. She holds still, eyes glazed on the water boat metro (Vaporetto) as swarms of people scrunch past her with the ever-present inflection of "Permesso, Permesso," (excuse me.) The small child, buttoned up in a wool coat and matching hat, heels clicking across a cobblestone square. She only knows life within the confines of narrow alleyways, piazzas with only one tree planted in the middle. The withered leaves holding all the oxygen of the appartamento’s lining the square built in the 14th century surrounding the Jewish ghetto.

This city, where people breath deep and long sharing the same cluttered archways with pedestrians, boats, scooters and bicycles. Where the same stories are retold on Latin tongues buried deep in cappuccinos at restaurants where recipes are passed down through each generation. A city where the modern artists mimic old ideas retold from the floors of Cathedrals transforming to canvas in techno colors in a galleria stinking of formaldehyde or sewage. A smell that is the base layer of Vencie, stinky, fanciful, man made and imagined. The very wealthy living in a bubble of comfort. The very local living down secret alleyways never touched by the tourist track.

Mist comes in soft puffs down the grand canal, leaving a tiny veil on the fine china cups used to sip espresso in the morning. A cloud of moisture over the calloused hands of the rope tiers who bring the vaporetto to a stop for loading and unloading. The same damp that musses the feathers of pigeons ready to dance in the puddles of Piazza Saint Marco. This veil that captures the mystery of this thoroughly man-made city.

How perfect that glass blowing is the chosen art form of this place. What a delicate and strong art form for a city steeped in fantasy and hard labor.  

Buona Pasqua! Easter in Italia part 2

There we were, in front of my favorite church in Italy. The Duomo of Siena. We had just finished a traditional slow foods Tuscan style meal at a jam packed restaurant, elbow to elbow at a long table with every kind of family bumping into us. A true Italian delight to be able to smell and stare at all the food you did not order as well as enjoy the succulence of your own meal. The main thing I remember was a fava bean soup that had bread in it as well as some delicious cured meat. 

Are tummies full on delicious food we strolled in the rain to the Duomo, up steep medieval curves of the old walled in city of Siena. We knew it would not be open this late at night but we just wanted to catch a glimpse of the striped church we had loved 11 years ago.

As we stood in the majesty of its courtyard looking up at the facade in the inky, blackness of night I felt tingles down my spine. I love cathedrals. I always have. I love that humans came up with the idea to build giant, gawdy spiritual elevating buildings on honor of deity. I love that they are buildings designed to make you feel awe struck, small in a huge universe and connected to something greater then yourself. I love that I can stare and stare and stare and still not see all the art and detail crafted into a building that took 500 years to construct. That this building started in the mind of one person, the spark of an idea. That the folks that came up with the original plans hardly ever saw the project to completion. I want to think big like that about my projects. That projects don't have to be done quickly that I might not even be able to see them till the end and expect that they will be completed by the next generation. I think cathedral makers our lovers of life, big dreamers and have faith and trust that they could leave a mark on the world, help shape a culture with their work. That is the kind of artist I aspire to be.

There we were, standing under an umbrella in the halo of light of a near by street lamp, Honeybee reading aloud to me from our guide book about the construction of this ancient Catholic temple. That's when we we started to see people walking up the stairs and pacing in front of the closed doors. Honeybee dismissed them as silly tourists who did not know the church would be closed at night. I thought there might be something more to it. I had us move closer, the people were speaking Italian, these were not tourists, these were Sienese families. Then the miraculous happened. The church doors opened up. We reluctantly and giddily followed inside with the other folks, uncertain we were supposed to go in. No one stopped us. I tried to walk as if I belonged there, poorly holding in my excitement of getting a chance to go into our Duomo. As we walked down the side hall trying to remain inconspicuous I realized this was midnight mass! This was the Saturday before Easter Sunday and we were some of the first attendees of the late service they would hold that night. I had not done midnight mass sense I lived in Seattle. A friend was going through a Catholic phase and I had attened this service one Easter at a small, modern church near our house. I had not thought about going to anything like this sense.

What luck! Here we were in one of the most outrageous and beautiful buildings in the world on a holy night where we practically had the place to ourselves. Most of the building was not even lit up, it was like being in a museum after hours, I was taken back to one of my favorite childhood books "From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler." We explored quietly, admiring the giant Easter Lily display on the alter, the Duccio fresco's in back of the high alter. Even the creepy busts lining the inside of the Duomo ceiling, the faces of all the popes in Italy staring back at us.

Services started at 11pm, we were given candles and a thick order of service filled with the stories of Christ's resurrection in Latin. We sat in a pew ready for the priest to begin. After the choir sang their first hymn, everyone got up and started walking to the back of the cathedral. At the front of the procession was the priest and alter boys holding one large candle. Not only did they walk all the way to the back of the cathedral they stepped outside and this band of faithful Catholics surrounded the priest in the sprinkly, spring darkness of Saturday night. I turned my head and the whole cathedral was dark again, all the lights were turned off. The Catholic chanting began, call and response in Italian. Honebee and I hummed along. The priest held the large candle in the middle of the circle, he took long golden pokers and stuck them into the top, bottom and sides of the candle, each time he placed a poker we would chant something, honoring that moment. He lit the candle and passed the light to each follower holding our candles in a personal, sacred quiet.

The priest and alter boys parted the crowd like the red sea and started the procession back into the church. As we turned to follow in the party stopped. A chant filled our throats that rose to soprano heights then the lights came on filling the tiny space our bodies inhabited in the glory of this Duomo. We walked along filling each crevice of the church with light bringing Christ back from the dead. We re awakened the space, fresh with raindrops in our hair and song in our hearts.

We sat through some of the very long and droning service, but eventually had to go back to our room in the town, to sleep and let the beauty and magic of the night soak in.

On our walk back home we passed other smaller churches lit up with the welcoming news of Christ's rebirth. The glowing halo of a Madonna welcomed us home.

 

Buona Pasqua! Easter in Italia part 1

--> As he jostled the key into the lock on the slick, green painted, wood of our doorway Josepy said "Don't miss the Luminaire procession tomorrow night in honor of Good Friday. "It was Good Friday, the streets were open and empty." The lyrics of a Coco Rosie song mumble through my head. Luminaire, the words spark memories of hand crafted lanterns in the shape of fish and other animals lit from within and marched down the walk ways of young, Olympia streets to ultimately surround the small lake over looking the capital. I was giddy with the news. What would a luminaire procession be like in Italy? How lucky we were to find ourselves in a pretty seaside small town on this momentous night.

Half way through dinner at a small fish restaurant I heard the whispers of chanting on the wind. It was pouring rain, we asked the waiter if the luminaire would still happen in the rain? He assured us it would. The owner of the eatery kept coming in and out as excited as a puppy waiting for the sun to go down and the procession to start. Finally we heard the clang of a bell. We wiped our plates clean and headed out down this village's one main street. We were greeted by the shiny backs of Italian villagers, huddled under raincoats and umbrellas in small groupings all with their eyes locked on the thin pathway through the middle of the road. It was dark, wet and magic. Suddenly the man next to us broke out into a choral song in thick Italian, five women surrounding him joined in, we mumbled along as if we knew the song. As we hummed a small procession could be seen at the top of the hill. A ghostly looking gathering of white paper covered candles held by most of the town’s people slowly processing down the hill singing along in the strong and beautiful Catholic hymnal music. They would move forward a few steps then stop and sing, a new verse each time. Then stop and repeat. It seemed that the verses corresponded to Jesus journey to the cross or being taken back to the cave where he had his ultimate resurrection.

As the procession got closer we could see village boys dressed in white hoods and robes, I saw them as symbolizing the Holy Ghost. They walked in front of a small entourage of young girls dressed in white carrying a casket holding a crucifix. Jesus’s body was exposed to the chill and rain of the night. Looking down at his body in the rain stirred a sad emotion within me. To be present with the pain he experienced was eye opening and sorrowful.

We made our way to their tiny church right on the water. Compared to the Gothic Renaissance churches of the rest of Italy, it was simple and almost barren. Being rebuilt from a terrible storm a few years earlier they had only been able to rebuild the pews and alter in front. We gathered into the damp and frankincense scented church and sat on the hard, familiar, wooden pews. The service was short, consisting of many calls and response we could not translate but hum along with as we had in the street. We sang a little and then it was time to go.

 The town folks gathered in a line down the middle to give their blessings to the recently processed crucifix of their church. I walked with them, making my way to Jesus. I did not know what to expect, just that it made sense to give my blessings to this holy man on this day. When it was my turn I went up with an older women. She put her hands on his head, she cradled him like a newborn baby, kissing his forehead and holding his hand. Watching her comfortable and sentimental gestures with this statue made my heart melt. I put my hand in his thin, glossy, statue hand and stroked his cheek like I would my daughter. Tears welled in my eyes, I remembered how much I had once loved Jesus, and I forgave him in that moment. I forgave a hard childhood, my anger at the Catholic Church, the concept of original sin. I forgave all the shit people put on him and do in his name. I just filled my heart with love. I kissed his cheek and left that church feeling more alive, like I had turned a leaf in my adult life. Making peace with Jesus.

A Glimpse of Italia

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I made this book in honor of my dearest friend Melissa. Melissa has seen me through all my biggest adult life journeys. She has been there for the birth of my daughter, maid of honor at my wedding and adventure explorer on multiple trips. She has seen me through all kinds of phases including living with me in a one room artist loft, taking me to my first drag show, supporting me in my decision to date a man and go to college. Two things I did not see in the cards in my early 20's. She is solid as a rock in my ever changing life and I feel so lucky to have her. This is for you Honeybee, may we be this close forever.

And Sometimes Mama Gets A Break

I am dusting off my back pack, shouting so long to the old USA and diving into the thrilling sport of adventure and travel with my dear friend Honeybee. We leave next week for the olive groves, red tiled roofs and picturesque piazzas of Italy. Landing in the romantic city of Venice. This trip has been six months in the planning yet I still can't believe I will be boarding a plane alone next week to have 10 days of kid free time. I feel like I am getting away with something I should not be. Like once you become a mom that is your identity something you can't peel off like a satin dress. its like a pair of plaid pajamas you will wear for the rest of your life. The freedom of my early 20's was washed away. I now get my thrills from the domestic existence of mostly full time parenting and being in a partnership.

Well, I love my plaid pajamas, especially the sweetest M family, but sometimes it is just right to get back into that satin dress, dawn some fresh lipstick and step out sans child roaming the world the way I used too. Sure I am scared, scared I will miss Sweetpea so much, that she will miss me, that something will go terribly wrong when I am gone and I will be too far away to do anything. Scared daddy will be resentful of my full freedom, that at work, my students will forget me and we will have to re-invent the wheel when I return after getting to such a good place. Will all this fear stop me? No way. Thanks to the advent of Skype I will get to see her sometimes. She gets to be with her loving grandmother while I am gone and be with her adoring daddy. I will also get the chance to hit the refresh button on our relationship. Parenting a toddler requires a lot of refresh.

We start in Venice staying right off the grand canal. We move on to Cinque Terra and stay in the town of Vernazza. After this we head to Florence to rent a car in Tuscany for Easter weekend. I have never ridden a car in a foreign country I am scared and excited. After this we cross our fingers that the Uffizi Gallery in Florence will be open Easter Monday, if not we will see the Duomo and enjoy the renaissance architecture. We then take a train south to Sorrento in search of sun and beach on the Amalfi coast. We will end in Rome, a city I have been to most recently while filming Travel Queeries.

This trip marks a friend anniversary. 11 years ago two travelers in back packs with train passes and a hint of whimsey transversed most of Italy in 2 weeks. Now 11 years later with roller luggage we take on a  smaller chunk of the country hitting the highlights. A focus on good food and relaxation. As I grow older and see how easy it is to value my family life over my friend life I am happy to make this exception to the rule.