Suburban Date Night Done Right

There is this whole amazing world revolving around delightful food, and it's been kept a secret from me my entire life. I don't know how long ago this conspiracy started, or who decided to not tell me about this amazing phenomenon, but now that I've been exposed, there's no turning back. 

If you're still in the dark, allow me to shed some light on your life. I'm talking about, traveling Food Truck courts, and not only are there several websites to tell you when and where they are gathering, but some of them also go into detail about the mouthwatering meals on wheels. 

Dallas Eater News

Roaming Hunger Updates

Food Truck Foodie

Food Trucks on Facebook

Last week we met up with Tim and Lara, loaded our group into the suburban, and drove to the local Sprouts parking lot, where every first Tuesday of the month the food trucks gather and influxes the neighborhood hungries with their lawn chairs and cash. We spent some time investigating the overall feel of each truck with our senses and carefully made our choices.

For future reference, if you ever see a Ssahm BBQ truck, it's imperative you order the Kimchee Fries (they're covered in that spicy mayo sauced used on sushi). And if you have more room for fry flavor, the Yellow Belly truck has delicious sweet potato fries with a unique garnish and a dipping sauce that changes the whole game. And to think, all my life I just thought you had to get lucky to come across an event like this........so much precious time wasted!!!

What's left to do on a summer weekday night with a full belly? Go to the pool so the kids can entertain themselves while the adults have a couple of beers, of course! My only regret is not getting a picture of Tim's classic pencil dive!

Did you know about this food truck world?

So Many Questions

Did you know Austin has enforced a bag ban on disposable bags at all retailers? A few other nationwide cities have already jumped on board with this law and I think it's pretty awesome, especially when I go for a drive and find a plastic bag flapping in the wind from a tree limb or caught on the root of a tree in one of my favorite creeks. I won't lie and say I have completely steered away from using bags when I go for large grocery purchases just yet, but I do re-purpose those bags for chores around the house, and I do tote my own reusable bag around for lots of other purchases, or just carry things out with full arms whenever possible. Apparently Dallas has voted against favor for this movement, but there are plans for it to be readdressed. Still, it surprises me when every time I assure the cashier I don't need a bag or take my things out of the bag to give it back to them, their reaction always reflects confusion or concern. Through my light research on the subject, I've found some polar opinions.
Have you ever left your shopping basket behind to grab something, and not pay much attention when you retrieve it, until you look down to unload your groceries onto the cashier's conveyor belt and realize your once full cart only has one thing in it, and you go looking for the cart you lost but have no idea how to return the one you stole back to it's original shopper, so you nonchalantly push it to the side?
.....Yeah, I did that and I'm not particularly proud. I feel like I lost a part of my life, actually. Straight up robbed. What was a I thinking about when I started pushing a cart that looked and felt nothing like mine? How could I not remember any of the last 10 minutes of my life? Did the person who's cart I stole see me do it and think it was funny so they didn't say anything to see how long it would take me to realize I was a fool? Was the person missing their cart just as confused as I was? Where did I even get the practically empty cart? Better yet, WHY COULDN'T I REMEMBER ANYTHING?!?!?! So many questions. So little answers.

source

On the same day, I visited the municipal court to pay for the stupid ticket my brother caused me to get and couldn't help but overhear other visitors conversing with the workers behind the glass. Without telling their stories, all I can say is I actually felt proud of myself among such company. I feel confident I was the easiest and most innocent customer they had all day. They guy that helped me was soooo super nice to, probably because I wasn't a huge pain in the ass and menace to society like everyone else seemed to be, or maybe because I had really short shorts on.......we'll never know.
And two days later my faith in humanity was even further nurtured by the sweetest merchant encounters everywhere I went. I should probably stay up for 24 hours wearing scrubs from the night before with frazzled hair and dark circles under my eyes more often for my errand running.....everyone probably thought I was still having to work while battling a terminal illness.
Happy Birthday, America, I hope you're proud.

P.S. Have you ever watched Portlandia? I love it; my new obsession right now besides vintage tiny camper trailers.


How do you feel about the banning bags to help preserve the environment?

The Best Medicine: Krause Springs Day 2

Continued from my posts about Jacob's Well, The Blue Hole, and Kruase Springs Day 1......

Laughter and adventure is great medicine, but so is being swallowed by the beautiful tranquility of nature.

Everything living harmoniously together, working in unison to sustain life, whispers peace. 

Thousands of years of endurance represent wisdom.

Even through it's very existence is often threatened, it trudges on with grace.

It doesn't fear wrinkles, it flaunts the characteristics that come with age like a trophy. 

Sometimes things that seem unbreakable collapse, but it's new path is embraced and adaptions take place.  

The microscopic circle of life is always diligently working to maintain homeostasis, even when the world appears to be still.

And while the humans are away, the wildlife will play. 

Sunday morning, while the majority of the campers were still sleeping off their hangovers or just rising to brush the cob webs off their teeth, Patrick and I explored the vacant swimming hole, enjoying the peacefulness of the morning and playing dangerously close to slyly looming vines of poison ivy.

It's amazing how differently a place can look on a desolate early morning as compared to a bustling Saturday afternoon. 

An important part about being an adult is never forgetting how to be a kid. 

Hide and seek, anyone?

Smacking on original flavor bubblicious gum and have bubble blowing competitions on the roots of a cypress at the base of a waterfall, anyone?

Obviously Patrick is way better at bubble blowing than I am.......along with whistling and playing the guitar and making fart noises with his ear. 

But I can stand still and pose......

Him? I have to catch him in a rare moment of being still, with the assistance of a fairly fast shutter time.

Satisfied we'd thoroughly explored our surroundings, but with unsatisfied stomachs, we headed back to the campground to make breakfast. 

Scrambled eggs with chopped cilantro and baby spinach paired with sliced avocado, thick apple-wood smoked bacon, and salsa was on the menu.  

Yes, we'd brought everything with us but the kitchen sink, including a iron skillet and a blow-up mattress to put under our sleeping bags, but managed to forget our pillows (which wouldn't have been a terrible thing had I not woken up with a crick in my neck)!!! I read somewhere that using a large plastic baggie and closing it full of air could serve as a small camping pillow, but that just sounded awfully ghetto and equally uncomfortable, so I thought I could manage without. 

Full and happy, we packed everything up in the cool morning breeze and headed to the spring for a day of leisurely activity. 

We snagged a stunning spot on the bank with a splendid combination of view/shade/sun, key factors in calculating the the coordinates of where to place a picnic blanket on the waterfront grid. 

I urged Patrick to get in the water first so I could analyze his face to gauge just how cold the water was.

He swam around for a bit and was looking too comfortable so I challenged him to be the first to swing from the rope. 

 

Watching people swing and jump from objects into the water never gets old.

There's a certain amount of pressure that comes with doing such things in front of bystanders, their eager eyes gravitate and fixate on the awkward arms and legs splayed in all directions, waiting to see what happens when a particular posture hits the chilly water awaiting it's disturbance. Will they flop? Will there be a big splash? Will they do anything amazing? Will they suddenly become scared of letting go and continue to hang on to the rope, not thinking about the consequences of swinging back in the other direction, causing their body to slam back into the rock (like we witnessed a little boy do while we were there)?

It's a funny thing, sitting  under a waterfall; you can never seem to get the water out of your eyes.

Thank goodness there weren't near as many people around on Sunday, or I'd have way too many people witness me flying through the air looking like a combination of a determined mutated Tarzan vs Wonder Woman with the unflattering crotch posture of Beyonce in that picture from her Super Bowl performance that keeps making an appearance on the Internet.

A couple of jumps off that rope and slippery climbs back up that over sized rock, and anyone in their right mind would be ready for a nap, so I climbed my way out to dry land with the handy help of some conveniently thirsty tree roots and joined Patrick in his relaxation zone.

Eventually, it was time to say our goodbyes to the Hill Country and head back to the city.

But before we left, we needed one more quick tree hug.

See ya later Krause Springs........

We'd later find out all the "soreness" Patrick was feeling from the rope jumping was actually bilateral twin black, blue, and purple bruises on his inner upper thighs/groin, too gruesome and personal for pictures. "It hurts more now that I saw what's down there," he moaned. Hey, at least you don't have a potentially broken foot like me, or have a crick in your neck from not having something to rest your head on at night since I donated the extra wing of our sleepingbags to you to roll up and use as a substitue, or come down with poisen ivy from our exploring, or hit your face on a rock like the poor chicken kid did, or lose all your stuff from your ice chest tumbling over like those several unfortunate souls we saw.

What about life serves as the "best medicine" for you? 

More People, More Comedy: Krause Springs Day 1

Continued from my posts about Jacob's Well, and The Blue Hole.......

How is a person suppose to pack up their whole SUV, drive 4 hours away from home and just hope there's a place to set up their tent when they get there, putting their fate dangerously in the hands of chance, because the campgrounds doesn't take reservations?

Some may call it living on the wild side. Some may call it stupid. But it's exactly what we did. 

We actually hit the jackpot, grabbing an RV site for the same price as any regular tent site, so we could have an electrical outlet for our fan and a faucet to rinse our dishes under. 

Spoiled from our earlier rendezvous', the Saturday afternoon crowd at Krause Springs was a bit congested for our taste, but we learned after talking to a couple of Austin residents, they came here to get away from the more popular watering holes that are even more crowded! 

We weren't shaken. I had a summer ale calling my name and a book to red.

We found a  perch high above the party, nice for relaxing and with a fantastic view for people watching. 

We should have kept a tally of the blundering falls down rocky slopes and the accidental ice chest purges off crooked stairs, but were too busy laughing and cringing to think logically. 

As sunset drew closer, day-visitors were forced to escape the park before the gates locked everyone in for the night, thinning the flock.......

...........which is exactly what we were hoping for. 

Just before dark, we hugged a giant tree, then finished setting up camp. By nightfall a brag worthy dinner was ready. Chopped yellow squash and zucchini served with short ribs cooked over the charcoal grill, with sweet and tangy clementines for dessert.

I surprisingly received a compliment on my new headlamp while walking to the bathroom, something I'd never imagined happening. 

"I like your headlamp. I have one that I keep by my side of the bed and use to read scary novels while my boyfriend is sleeping. It works out great 'cause when I look up, the light creates creepy shadows from the things in the room."

We slept under the super moon that night with the locust and frogs humming us to sleep (and our inconsiderate neighbor's out of date club music), with the 73F breeze blowing through the mesh ceiling of our tent that I gazed at the stars through before a last long blink transformed into sweet dreams. I actually woke up searching for warmth. 

But before bed, we headed back down to the water around midnight to peer up at the sky and listen to the other strange few {humans}, who were still awake, howling at the moon in unison like a pack of wolves. 

That's when we got to see the fire show. A guy lit these balls on fire and swirled them around in the black night, like he'd been circus trained, ceasing when the burning subsided. Unfortunately I only recorded the end of his performance, but the video is humorous because my drunken husband NEVER stops talking. 

What's you favorite part about camping?

I've Done a Bad Good Thing

It's not in me to murder. 

I make all possible effort live in peace with anything before I take it's life, no matter how small (or in this case extremely large and plump for something so little, in the grand scheme of things, that was doing irrepressible damage to something dear to me). 

I really didn't want to, but the task became necessary.

My mom will probably hysterically cry herself to sleep replaying our telephone conversation.
Her, talking me through building up the courage to conquer and defeat, to kill in the name of living through the telephone, while educating me on the nature of the beast. Me, squealing and shrieking into the receiver as I poked and prodded from afar at the monster who ate my entire bell pepper plant as an appetizer and had moved on to my overgrown tomato plant as it's main course, all in a matter of 2 days.

At first I didn't quite know what I was looking for. A caterpillar, she said, green with horns. In my mind, I pictured something the size of a toothpick, at best, tiny and frail. But further into my mind, I had no confidence I'd find anything at all. Even deeper, I hoped to find nothing, so I wouldn't have to do what I did next.

When I spotted the funny shaped leaf that looked like it had a cocoon hanging from it, I moved in closer to take a better look......Then I jump back and screamed.

"Mom!! You didn't tell me how big they'd be!!! It's huge!! I got too close. Way too close. It's angry now. I don't want to touch it."

My mom ensured me there'd be company. And there was; company as long and fat as my index finger that reared half it's body back in a very aggressive and scary manner and towards the stick I was using to poke it. There were 4 total. I leaped back and screamed again.

"Those bastards are trying to pick a fight with me!!!" I whined. 

"It says here hornworms love tomato plants and peppers. They must be removed from the plant and killed, and then the plant must be sprayed with a safe insecticide. It says here, that they wont hurt humans." Mom's. They're such liars. She's been lying to me my whole life for the sake of encouragement and manipulation. 

"Seriously, I know you just made that last part up so I wouldn't be scared, " I called her bluff.

She was patient, though, ignoring all her highly important bank work while I went inside to get the largest, longest, sharpest knife I could find and eventually work up the valor to break the cleverly camouflaged plant killers free from my precious, and slice each one of them into thirds (decapitating both ends, just to make sure I completed my mission).

Don't get me wrong, I hate everything about watching those little devil horned gluttons die, but more importantly, it was their fault. They didn't want to share, therefore I could no longer be so generous.

Here's to hoping my half eaten tomato plant will live and being thankful for it's surviving neighbors!
And I guess I'm a weeny.
Did I mention it was so dreadfully hot and humid outside that I could barely concentrate through the sweat dripping in my eyes and rolling down my legs? Geez. Thank goodness a "cold front" came through to drop the temperatures back down into the 90's!!!

Have you ever come face to face with one of these rascals? How do you feel about killing insects or rodents?