by admin | Nov 27, 2015 | Sam's Thoughts
Ohhh, the mistletoe..
Come December, couples will be found lingering under laden doorways.
Couples not yet coupled will avoid it like the plague, for under it demands the “Define The Relationship” discussion.
The culprit is in the mind of every preteen boy, or rather, over it.
The mistletoe tradition has varied roots.
Despite its Anglo-Saxon etymology, ‘mistel’, meaning “dung,” and “tan,” meaning “twig,” its romantic association prevailed.
For centuries, it was believed to increase life and fertility. As the Norse legend goes, Balder, son of the goddess Frigga, was killed by an evil spirit with an arrow made of mistletoe. Saddened by her son’s death, Frigga wept tears of white berries, which brought Balder back to life. Frigga was so overjoyed that she blessed the plant and promised a kiss to all who passed beneath it.
The British custom was to pick a berry from the sprig of mistletoe before the person could be kissed. When all the berries had gone, there could be no more kissing. For centuries it has been the scapegoat to romantic advances, but not all welcome the excuse to smooch.
The Kissed
If caught under mistletoen confines, you will be faced with the uncomfortable decision to kiss or diss. Repercussions are weighty, ability to escape its holiday party presence- unlikely.
The plant is a botanic bother as well. As mistletoe grows on a tree, it uses its roots to invade a tree’s bark, allowing it to absorb the tree’s nutrients, sometimes causing deformities in a tree’s branches.
The Kisser
Should you be the one making use of mistletoe’s services, do not loiter in its locale, waiting to advance when desired target is directly under its boughs. Mind your mistletoe manners, for an unexpected and incoming smooch can send an unwilling recipient to the slopes.
To Kiss or Question?
According to the Mistletoe Manifesto, the conduct surrounding this popular custom is not clear-cut, leaving individuals to their own devices.
Can we actually distinguish mistletoe from any other bushel of leaves? Does any bouquet hung during the month of December defend a kissing case? Must one locate and pluck from tree, or will Wal-Mart’s pre-packaged plant suffice?
And what about the kissing itself? Must it be on cheek? On lips? Is there a seconds-ceiling for the snogging?
Is the act reserved for only those you know? You know by name? You know by name and not by blood?
Should you not be ready to “take it to the next level” with whomever stands under mistletoe’s limbs, you will spend the holiday season avoiding doorways and Whoville-caliber decorated districts.
Pucker up or pass. Worst case scenario, blame it on season’s tidings.
by admin | Sep 8, 2015 | Destinations
Here’s a pretty solid photo dump of our Labor Day weekend.
Friday after work, we drove up to Portsmouth, NH and had a beer at Portsmouth Brewery. It had a similar environment to Great River at home, which was cool. Definitely had equal parts focus on the food as it did the beer, which made for an excellent appetizer!
We met our couch hosts at their home around 9:15 at night, and stayed up chatting with them. The husband is active in the Navy, and the wife works in insurance. They’re both from Florida, and were super interesting to talk to about travel, politics, and moving around the country!
Our hosts knew we were on a weekend-long brew adventure, so they took us to Shipyard Brewery and Tributary Brewery. We enjoyed walking through Fort Foster park in Maine, and the downtown gardens with them before heading to Portland mid afternoon. It’s people like them who make Couchsurfing so wonderful!
They were so welcoming toward us, had great conversation, and really took the time to show us what they love about their community. Not only that, but we truly hope they come visit us in South County sometime so that we can return the favor.
Saturday afternoon, we headed up to Portland and pitched our tent in a campground. Growing up, I was used to State Park campgrounds, but those were all sold out, so we did the unthinkable. We paid $50 a night to sleep nearly on top of our neighbors.
Speaking of our neighbors.. At around 4:30, ours came and introduced herself. The conversation went something like this:
“OMG NEW NEIGHBORS! Hi guys, where ya from?”
“South County, RI.”
“Cool, I live over there. Well, not really. But we lived across the park but last week there was a liiiiitle bit of a fight between us and our neighbors and they came to us the next day and said they thought we should move. So thank GOD we got to move. So we’re here now.”
“Great! I’m glad you like it over here. (motioning to the 7 or so people playing darts in her ‘front yard’) So your friends came to visit for the weekend then?”
“Oh no, they live here too. We live here four months out of the year, the rest we live in Suco. That’s a few miles down the road. Oh shit it’s my turn I think. Oh by the way this is John. I’ll be right back!”
She didn’t come back.
We headed into Portland in search of dinner. We’d heard great things about a restaurant called Green Elephant. It was so exciting to look at a menu and have so many choices! It was in downtown Portland, which we had to admit we expected very different things out of.
We heard that Portland was an incredible, young town full of fun restaurants and breweries, and were half expecting a bunch of hippies and street vendors, or something of the like. In reality, we were a tad afraid to park our car due to the people on the streets and in the shadows, and were treated to live singing that sounded more like an ailing animal than gospel music.
After dinner, we decided to walk around to a few bars/breweries that we’d been advised to visit. Always a fan of a good biergarten, we walked towards the water to a place called Novare Res. It had a great beer selection, and was perfect for sitting with strangers… or people watching.
I’d love to say that we woke up the next morning feeling refreshed, but we had a rough first night; it turns out the campground is on a flight path, and our air mattress decided to retire.
We woke up and ate cereal out of a pint glass, and may or may not have had Not Your Fathers in lieu of coffee. Because we couldn’t be bothered to actually remember silverware, we ate our watermelon right out of the watermelon. We also spent a few moments writing down a camping list that we can use to pack in the future.
Enjoying a photo opp outside Liquid Riot Brewing Co in Portland.
We parked in Old Port on Sunday, and spent the day tasting local beers and walking around the ports and parks of Portland. We napped in parks and wandered through the streets. It was such a nice day of discovering the city. It also seemed much more welcoming and safe during the day, which we appreciated!
Monday morning we headed down the coast at our own pace. We left the campgrounds by 1030ish and popped from lighthouse to beach walk to former president’s home all the way to Portsmouth. The traffic was awful, so it was great to drive 20 mins, then get out and walk for 45 minutes, then drive a bit more. I think the 3 hour journey home actually took closer to 8.
In front of the most photographed lighthouse in Maine.
Once we made our way back to Portsmouth, NH we stopped to take a look at a submarine! You can’t tell from this photo, but it’s HUGE! It was even cooler that we heard so much about submarines from our couch hosts a few days before!
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All in all, it was such a great weekend away! We can’t wait to go back north in a month or two to camp and look at leaves!
by admin | Sep 1, 2015 | Sam's Thoughts
At some point in the last 17 countries or so, I lost sight of how wonderful domestic travel can be. Somewhere between three continents, I decided that traveling in the US is ‘boring’ and ‘uninteresting’. When playing ‘How Many Stamps Does Your Passport Have?’ I forgot how wonderful my home 50 are.
When was the last time you did something for the first time?
It’s fun to be on the brink of visiting more countries than states. I’m lucky to be a citizen of a country that just has so much to offer, a country that with its varied and distinct regions, we almost have mini countries within its borders.
Last year, I visited North Carolina for the first time. It was my first new state in a few years!
Of course, I make my way around. I spent two weeks ago in Chicago, last weekend in Baltimore, and have flitted around southern New England for the past few months. With all the traveling I do, I can’t help but think of how much more adventurous it would be in another country.
Beyond my backyard
In the last couple of months, I’ve gotten super excited about domestic travel, though!
For the first time, I live much closer to a ‘good’ airport. Providence is to Boston as Midway is to O’Hare, or as LaGuardia is to JFK. Budget airlines and international flights leave from PVD, meaning that I can get to Central America for less than $500, and round trip to Chicago, Denver, or Florida for less than $200. Our country just got a lot smaller!
Speaking of small, welcome to the North East. Shane and I are formulating a road trip for Labor Day weekend that will cross a minimum of three states in three days- with less than 10 hours in the car! (traffic permitting)
We’ve been told of treasures along the way, of towers and tunnels to traverse, of shops and ships to see. Hitching is beyond us, but we will hike through the highlights and camp in the coolest of communities that be!
Yeah ok that was cheesy.
But Really
There’s no better time of year for a trip up the coast! Once fall comes, we’ll go north for the leaves, and northwest for the skiing. But for now, I get go add two more of our beautiful states to my list. 3 states in 3 days!
by admin | Aug 24, 2015 | Sam's Thoughts
Snap chat
Photo app
DSLR.
Instagram
How do you remember your adventures?
As I previously wrote, it’s different to remember a place by the way it smells. The briney humid inhale of a New England beach is completely different from the soft winds coming off the South Atlantic in Itacare.
Tracking
Sounds are what makes a place home, to me.
When Shane first moved to Davenport, he was so scared by the bangs late at night. Whether they were from the Arsenal, rogue fireworks, or actual weapons, Shane was sure that every bang was a gun.
When we were in Seabra, there were chickens next door. Growing up on and off in rural Iowa, I was pretty aware that roosters crowed more than once at the crack of dawn. My beloved thought that they crowed once, like in the story books. Regardless, we were both squacked awake daily.
You won’t notice some sounds until they don’t happen. Leaving the TRNC for the other side of Cyprus, it was bizarre to not hear the call of prayer echo off the mountains into the Greek side of Cyprus. The church bells of Itacare sounded like a manic person was banging on them with a hammer. I missed that the night that I left.
Newport, RI has huge rocks on parts of the shoreline. The water washes back and forth over them, they shift, making the most unique dysrhythm.
The soundtrack to my office. I barely notice when the fans turn off, but the whole room seems louder. Rowdier.
The rains of Iowa are harsh and loud . . . beating against the metal roof of the lifeguard shack I spent my high school summers in. The constant rush was only interrupted by the clash of lightning, often being heard while able to see the sun on the not so distant horizon.
I could be anywhere in the world, and ‘Wagon Wheel’ will take me right back to the side of 28 September Road, Nicosia.
In the Loire Valley, the rumble of the truck engines was absorbed by the vineyards, the birds’ chirp outweighing the wind.
Sometimes, it’s the sounds of humans that distinguish a place. In whatever language, it’s not easy to distinguish what’s going on. Banging on instruments, harsh tones giving way to compliments and commands simultaneously.
The sound of a passionate group of people singing will always bring the hair on the back of my neck to attention. The sound of Amazing Grace on bagpipes will always bring me to tears.
It is the soundtrack of a place as much as anything that sets one place apart from another. As we travel about the world, we leave one sound track for another, until we are back to the familiar sounds of home.
Nickel, lady? Nickel, lady? I can have a nickel, lady?
by admin | Jul 2, 2015 | Destinations, Sam's Thoughts
Clink! My glass is well over half full
Sip. Ruminating in the past year
Set. Breathing in the possibilities
Laugh. Life is good
My 23rd year began with a best friend, a mimosa, and endless potential. I was standing in my kitchen in my own place- I had achieved my goal of living alone for years. I was completing my two degrees, and had several options for where to go after graduation. Standing amidst my achieved goals and gas station orange juice containers, I was lost.
Possibilities were uncertainties. Potential was an uncomfortable word. The future was a whirlwind of haphazard ideas, goals unwritten.
If it’s not ok, it’s not the end.
I was lost because of passion. I embraced my adrift ideas as I pulled back my bow and prepared to launch into the great unknown. There was more inside of me than what I was currently offering to the world, and it was brilliant.
If I’m never lost, how can I be found?
I rarely know where I’m going, but I know that I’m on the right path. I know that where I’ve been is beautiful, and I can’t wait to see the rest of the journey.
Year 23 is nowhere near finished, but why wait for a birthday to acknowledge a remarkable period?
