Rainbows and Hummingbirds Galore

Here's a link to the cabin we rented in Colorado last July. I will go into how I found VRBO.com and why I used them, later in another blog, but we've used them twice now and have not been disappointed. My review of the cabin is there under Amanda H., so feel free to check it out. I tried to put in some extra info that would be useful if you're visiting the Pike's Peak area. You can check out this cabin with amazing views, here:
https://www.vrbo.com/287182

Stay tuned for more travel blogs! I'm a quite a bit behind, but I have reviews and notes on travel to Chicago, Colorado Springs/Pike's Peak, and most recently, LONDON!

Bon Voyage,

Amanda

Dream, wonder and wander

Some of you may be asking why I decided on a travel blog. I’m not a twenty-something, single girl, alternating my red beret in France, and my red bikini on a Caribbean beach. My husband and I are not childless jet-setters blazing a trail to India…. And some of you might think that because you aren’t those things either, you might as well stick close to home. I’m here to tell you, it isn’t true- if you don’t want it to be.

Stating the obvious, I love to travel. I love to see new things. I stand in awe of God’s and man’s creations on this great, blue and green sphere. There are times when I travel and I just stand there, gazing in amazement that something could be that beautiful. Or that historic. That God would align my visit just for me- with the perfect temperature- or the not so perfect one; that the rainbow in the Colorado valley could be that vivid; that the ocean really can be that green, or blue; that man could build beautiful towering buildings straight up into the sky, and that I can step out onto a clear ledge and flirt with heights of which ancient man had no concept. I love to smell the smells- the exotic foods (except the fish, I struggle with that one); the smell of a city; the salt in the ocean air. The history, the stories, the stuff of legends…. They all give me the greatest thrill. And it never, ever fails- I find myself praying a silent mouthed prayer,  when I’m alone in these moments. “Thank you, God. Thank you for letting me see this. Thank you for letting me have this moment, and experience these things. And have a story to tell.”

Growing up, my family did not have a lot. A lot of you know that. We were a family of 7, and I lived the greater portion of my home life in a home that was less than 900 square feet, with one bathroom. My dad worked (and still does)  60 hour work weeks- not at the office, but hard, manual labor- wiring the ever growing bevy of buildings in “Downtown”; or in the factory making the machines, or making the factory itself work.  My mom took a variety of odd jobs- driving the school bus, helping clean the church… because there was always a sibling that was sick in the hospital; always more bills to pay than could be paid. I’ve mentioned in previous blogs, that things were bad enough once for the local fire department to bring us Christmas groceries and presents. My dad worked so hard, but having sick hospitalized kids and bills to pay, was more than they could do. I can’t wait for the day when my dad can finally rest.

My parents felt that Christian education was important, so my mom, dad, brothers and sisters and I worked for a good many years- cleaning the school gymnasium. That was often a humbling and sometimes humiliating experience among my peers- but that is for another blog. When four of us needed the education, some choices had to be made. At this point, around my sophomore year- I was horrified at the idea of leaving behind the group of 25 friends and classmates I’d known since first grade, to venture into unfamiliar public school territory. So, I decided to pay for my private education myself. I got a job, and I worked. It was sometime around this time of my life, that I decided, I would not be a victim of my circumstances. If I wanted something, I would just buckle down and make it work; I would make it happen. Class ring payments became due- I made it work. Senior pictures came up- I made it work. Cap and gown, field trips, lunch money- I worked, worked, worked. I had to make the tough choice to forgo my long standing plans to attend college in Florida with my best friend. When it came time to purchase my car (college was starting in a week and I was a commuter!)- you can imagine after paying for private school, and all that went with it- there wasn’t a lot left. I took out a “small loan of a million dollars” (haha, I just couldn’t resist); anyway, I took out a small loan of $2500 from the bank to buy my first car. It died of engine failure within the first few months- thanks to a slick talkin’ salesguy who took advantage of my small price tag. Lesson two learned in life- don’t make big decision in the hastiness of the moment. Aside from 3 small scholarships- a drop in the bucket of college life- it was on me to get through school. I worked two jobs a lot of my college career, and tried to maintain my grades, homework and two hours of practice required daily- okay, and I have to say here that my social life *may* have taken a few of those hours. Long story short- here I am, nearly 39 years old, without a document to show for it. That’s next on my list.

But you know what I do have???? I have all of these memories. I have all of these life experiences that some people only dream of. Without Broadway, I would never have dreamed of becoming a music major. Without my trip to Washington DC in high school for the National Young Leaders Conference- I would never have my knowledge of the government, how it works, and my interest in politics. I would never be able to share with my children my firsthand experiences of Monticello, or Mount Vernon; the very places that probably planted the seed for my love and avid study of British History. These early travels in my junior and senior year whetted my appetite to see more, to experience more.  I’ve planted my feet where Columbus stood. I’ve seen Mozart’s birth home. I’ve crossed the Rialto Bridge, and stood in St. Mark’s Square while the sound of a stringed orchestra filled the courtyard in the damp evening air. I’ve gambled in Vegas, in Reno; and breathed the mountain air in Lake Tahoe and Colorado. I was in love with all that Puerto Rico had to offer, and riding horses (um, okay, do not “canter” no matter what the guide says- “cantering” means running) overlooking the bay in the Dominican Republic. I have brought stories and souvenirs back to my children from Mexico, and the Bahamas and we have explored amazing places as a family.

I say all this, not to air my list of travels- but to inspire someone, somewhere. That it is all worth it. In my opinion, a life well-traveled is a life well lived. And traveling, well, it makes you dream and wonder, and wander. And you know what? This little girl, who used to clean toilets in a gym, this TRAVELIN’ GRITS got to do it. . I dedicate this blog, to you, dear reader- the one who wants to see the world, and will find a way to make it happen. Here are my experiences and tips to help you make it happen.

#realChristmas

Author’s note: While my goal is to take this blog in a “Traveling direction” in the future (I’m sitting on at least 3 good traveling blogs), this is a blog I started last Christmas Eve 2014, with a few mental notes. Because my holiday did end up being so hurried and rushed, I never fully got those thoughts down on paper until I jotted a few notes down, in APRIL.  April, 2015, for the love. So, if you are feeling overwhelmed this season and feeling like you may not catch up until April, then this blog is for you.

Last Christmas, was, well, less than my ideal. I heard myself repeatedly saying to M, that I just “wasn’t feeling it this year”. I couldn’t really pinpoint why, but my whole attitude seemed out of whack. Well, okay, I can pin point a few why’s…. but generally speaking, the holiday season had me very  cranky, and more than once I found myself singing, “Where are you Christmas” from The Grinch. If you know me, you know this to be a truth.

 I remember sitting in the floor of my living room, wrapping presents under the glow of the lights from the tree and feeling oh-so-wonky, like dizzy, and hot- like I had a fever… but there was no time for that. There was no time for me as a mom to slow down, be sick in the Christmas season.  We have to bring the MAGIC. We have to bring the JOY. We have to bring the smiles, and the wrapping, and the laughter, and the decorated cookies, and the oh-so-thoughtful gestures. We have to bring the Pinterest, for cryin’ out loud. So I pressed on, kept on going. The same week, I took one boy, and then both boys in to find out that they had the flu, and if I remember correctly, one or more also had strep. Nothing really slows you down during the holiday season like two kiddos missing school with the flu before Christmas break even starts. So, I was still feeling badly myself, so thought, well, shoot, better go get checked out because as the saying goes, “Ain’t nobody got time for this”. I headed to the clinic, only to find out, nope, not flu, not strep; but I’d been walking around with double ear infections for at least a week. By that point, I was so run down that the bed called my name constantly, while the “Joy” of the season still beckoned for me to wrap it up, already. This leads to one stressed out, anxious and obnoxiously crazy mother.

I ended up getting it all done. The presents bought, wrapped, and shipped; cards addressed, stamped and mailed (albeit down to the wire); teachers and neighbors “blessed” (confession: I feel snarky even writing that as I reflect on my attitude); stocking stuffers, meals and cookies prepared. But the whole time, I just had a straight-up sorry ass attitude that had nothing to do with Mary’s humble donkey.  How’s that in a Christmas blog? I’m pretty sure that by this point, my husband and kids were ready to trade me in. I remember saying to M, this is not what Christmas is supposed to be about. I feel like I can’t even enjoy the season for the real Reason because of all this “stuff”. While the “stuff” begged to be done, I was resentful of it, and of giving it my focus.

This is a real picture from my facebook page on December 16, 2014. The caption reads, "I'm titling this one- 'dysfunctional Christmas.' You know, for when your dogs mangled the bottom of the tree, knock off the ornaments, run all over the presents, the star won't stay on top and half the lights burn out. #realChristmas"

We schlepped out to church on Christmas Eve, and I remember I still wasn’t in the finest of spirits. However, I love my church, and true to form, they brought it; God brought it.

For some reason, I felt God prodding my thoughts to Mary. I thought about how, like every new expecting Mom, she probably thought her delivery would be dream-like, and lovely; filled with a comfy bed and maybe a mid-wife, some essential oils and timed, just oh-so-perfectly. I mean, this was the birth of the Son of God, we’re talking about here. She probably thought she would be able to have her mother or cousin, Elizabeth-beside her, coaching her through each labor pain (because you know, no epidural); and Joseph waiting anxiously and lovingly in the next room. She probably pictured receiving family and friends bearing gifts and greeting them with a gracious queen like smile as she sat tucked comfortably on her bed.

But then, the tax man called. Well, that’s really inconvenient timing; can we defer? No? Well, better saddle up that donkey and get this over with because “Ain’t nobody got time for this, I’ve got a baby due.”  And, speaking of the donkey, well how’s that for some discomfort? I picture myself laboring through my first son and after two excruciating and exhausting nights, I cannot for the life of me imagine being on a donkey during that time. And then, I wonder if, as she realized that the time had indeed come- I wonder if tears of panic and even, maybe disappointment came to her eyes as she realized there would be no safe, comfortable, clean room or bed; there would be no other comforting family presence; there would be no mid-wife, no essential oils, no “baby’s first outfit”. Did she feel bereft of the presence of family, gifts and warm wishes to welcome her newborn?

While the Scriptures do point toward her being extraordinarily faithful and strong prior to delivery, I can’t know what Mary thought or felt that night; other than “Mary pondered these things and kept them in her heart” afterward. But, my point is this- Christ came anyway. Christmas came anyway. Despite the miserable timing, poor circumstances, discomfort, inconvenience, maybe even a little fear and disappointment- Christ came anyway.

And, through it all, God provided. He provided the warmth of the stable and the animals nearby. He provided the strength and courage of Joseph to help her through the physical pain. He provided the first outfit, he provided new friends of shepherds and wise men bearing gifts; he even provided the well wishes and birth announcement by way of the very angels on high. And it was better. It was so much better than anything she could have asked for or imagined.

As I processed through Christmas Eve service, it all descended on me. My first world issues being so inconsequential; especially compared to some who are truly suffering real desperation, pain and loss this very moment. My heart swelled and my eyes welled with the realization that my not-so-tidy first world Christmas problems do not matter. Mommas- slow down, breathe in the Season. We don’t have to bring the magic, we don’t have to bring the joy. Because, ready or not, Christmas comes anyway. Christ came anyway.