A Foggy Morning October Run

October 008Dressed in my orange ‘Happy Halloween’ t-shirt and a pair of black running shorts, I laced up my sneakers and headed to the park for my morning run. October settled over the area in the form of dense fog which certainly added to the pre-Halloween atmosphere.

Although I love summer and the carefree days hanging out with my boys, I have to admit October has always topped my list of favorite months. There is just something so invigorating about the cooler days and the colorful leaves. I love apples and pumpkins and looking at Halloween decoration. I love wrapping myself in a blanket on the couch and getting caught up in a great ghost story. But most of all, this is a great time of year to be an outdoor runner and I’m making the most of it by getting out to enjoy it while it lasts!

Cooler air overnight brought powerful thunderstorms. I’m not usually one to wake up to the crash of thunder but this time, it was hard to miss. Those sunny warm days we were enjoying are suddenly replaced by a fall morning chill. This is the first morning I have felt compelled to grab a light sweatshirt before heading to the park.

The fog is lingering and the ground is wet from last night’s rain, making the leaves that have already fallen a little slick along the trail. It is also quiet. I suppose many people looked out their window this morning and decided today is not a good day to go outside.

Me, I’m still running. As a matter of fact, I am pushing myself a little harder in preparation for my second 5K race coming up on the 11th of October. I was so exhilarated after the first 5K (The Graffiti Run in early August) that I rushed to find another one I could participate in before the cold weather sets in. Now, I’m starting to think maybe I was a little crazy.October 016 Am I ready to do that again? I don’t feel ready. Then again, I said the same thing the first time. All I can do is keep running and on race day, hope to be a little less anxious, and definitely ready to run.

I’ve started getting off the main trail to explore paths through the woods, not just to run farther, but because I like to explore. My current favorite path is barely wide enough to walk but it’s a peaceful meander amongst trees with lots of twists and ups and downs. And okay, the occasional spider web that I’m forced to walk through – but I’m less impressed with those.

During my time in the woods, my mind is free to start thinking about my day ahead, especially what I will write. I like to imagine my characters walking with me. What would they do?

Where will they lead me?

It’s a new month and a new day to explore. I’m ready to sit back with a cup of tea, stretch out tired muscles, and put words to paper to weave new worlds…

October 020

Fall Family Picnic

Oct 079Every fall we make it a tradition to have a family picnic at Moraine State Park. This includes not just my husband, my kids, and me, but also my parents and my brother as well. We plan ahead of time who will bring what, nothing fancy, usually just hot dogs on the grill along with some pasta salad, and plenty of goodies to enjoy. That was the menu plan this year, at any rate. After we eat and catch up, we all head to the extensive bike trail for a long walk together. Inevitably, we end up at the play area for the kids to swing, climb, and go down the slides. And okay, sometimes the adults take part in this fun as well.

I’m grateful that we didn’t miss our annual picnic at Moraine this year and that we had such a beautiful day to enjoy it together. Of course, where I go, the camera goes too so I have plenty of photos to share of some of the sights that took my interest along the way. Oct 082 Above is a lovely view of the bike trail as we started on our walk. And to the right is a view of Lake Arthur. There were a lot of sailboats on the water. You can just about make out one in the distance in this particular photo. I love the way the water sparkles in the sun.

Oct 084My husband shakes his head and says, “You and flowers…”

Yes, flowers and me… I have a strange obsession with taking photos of them and if you could peek into the files on my computer, you would see that I have hundreds of them already and I still can’t help myself to take more every chance that I get. I love to capture them in photos, which is better than cutting them and killing them just for a few days of being pretty on my table. And yes, I feel this way even about the weeds and I always have.

Oct 086My kids adore their grandparents. We don’t see them as often as they’d like because we live many miles apart but when we do see them, it makes those moments even sweeter. I couldn’t resist stealing a photo of the kids as they walk along the trail with Grandpa. What do you suppose they are talking about? Are they discussing the caterpillars that we see now and then? Are they pointing out the color in the leaves? Or maybe, knowing these are my kids and my kids happen to be superhero obsessed, perhaps they are discussing the details of how Iron Man or Captain America would save the day? This is, after all, serious business.

Oct 110And then there were more flowers and once again, I could not resist. Even in the fall when everything begins to die, they are still beautiful, maybe even more so than in summer’s full bloom.

The days are getting shorter. The trees are even more vibrant than they were a week ago and many leaves have already fallen. I like to believe that I’m capturing every moment before it disappears and gives way to winter cold and snow.

And last but not least, I leave you with my very favorite photo that I’ve taken so far…

Oct 115The sun is setting over another fun-filled family day. My kids call these “wish flowers” because I told them that if they close their eyes and blow away the seeds, they could make a wish and it would come true. My oldest wished for more wish flowers because he loves watching the seeds scatter. Now, I think that is one wish that just might come true.

If you could sit in the grass and watch the sun set over the lake, pick this flower and make just one wish …

What would you wish for?

 

Fall Into Autumn

Sept 118Every month and every season has something special to offer but October is my favorite month of all. I enjoy spring when the world comes alive again and everything is super green. I enjoy summer when the sun shines and we can get away with shorts and t-shirts. I even enjoy winter with its crisp, fresh snow, although I admit that winter could be a little shorter. I have often believed that I was born in the perfect place on earth because here in Pennsylvania, I get a taste of each season at its best.

Sept 086During the fall, I love to get outside in the Pennsylvania woods and of course, where I go, the camera goes too.  I took these photos during my last ‘hiking’ adventure with the family. We got off the regular path in the park and explored the trails. Great fun for the kids who lead the way. Great fun for me who lingered behind snapping photos at whatever caught my interest. An hour in and we realized that we had no idea where we were and how to get back out again. (oops) We didn’t panic. We pushed on and when the trail we were on didn’t appear to get us close to an escape from the woods, we abandoned it and tried to back track. Eventually we found our way out.

Now that the kids are at school, I have the option to get out on my own a bit more and I’ve started taking advantage of this fact by visiting the park three times per week to run. Okay, a runner I am not, but I am trying and I haven’t died yet. Sept 087I have discovered this is not just a means to try to shed a few extra pounds and get back in shape, but a wonderful opportunity to witness summer’s last goodbyes as the world transforms around me into autumn. Every morning that I park the car and head toward the path through the woods, I notice that the leaves on the trees have gained a little more color. The smell of fall is in the air. The sun may still be shining and the days may still be warm but there are the first hints of a cool breeze that promise frost that will only be a matter of weeks away.

The autumn sun is softer than the summer sun and when it filters through the trees, it makes the yellow leaves glow and the reds more vibrant. When the breeze picks up, the leaves let go of the trees and cascade down along the path like a golden rain. There is something almost magical about running through it. It makes me feel like a kid again. Remember when we would gather leaves into giant piles and jump into them? Sept 097

Sometimes as I run, I see the big, fuzzy caterpillars along the path – a sign of winter to come!

The park is a quiet place anyway but on a weekday morning, it is even more so. It gives me the chance to escape into my own thoughts as I walk or run, work out my next story, or just daydream. No kids to complain that they don’t want to walk anymore. No fighting. Just myself and the world around me and occasionally, the fellow walker that I pass along the way.

I know that eventually the days will not be as warm and we’ll wake up to frost on the ground again. Eventually the trees will shake free of all their leaves and I’ll be running over them scattered on the dirt path. Eventually it will even be so cold that getting out of the car and walking along the path will lose Sept 104its appeal. (But I hope that doesn’t happen.) In the blink of an eye, I won’t be surrounded by the vibrant colors and the smell of fall. I won’t come home to apple cider or see pumpkins and corn stalks outside the neighbor’s houses anymore. I will miss fall when it ends but in the meantime, I intend to enjoy every moment that I can.

I look forward to the trips to the farm and many more travels through the woods.

I hope that you will enjoy it right along with me in my photos.

What is your favorite thing about autumn?

Sept 126

C is for Characters and Connections

masks

When I was young, I developed an infatuation with the theatre and I decided I wanted to be a scriptwriter and actress when I grew up.

As a matter of fact, you might remember an earlier post about my first venture into writing which happened in fourth grade when myself and a couple of girls from my class decided to create our own play one day on the playground. I’m not sure what prompted us to do this. If memory serves, it was Melissa’s idea so maybe her parents had taken her to see a play recently and this inspired her to create her own? Maybe it was something we had talked about in class? I don’t know. It seemed like fun so I went along with the idea. I was always big into make-believe.

Our fourth grade teacher was impressed enough with our efforts that he allotted class time for us to perform our play in front of everyone. I don’t remember what our play was about and I don’t remember how big of a part I had in it but I do remember quite clearly falling in love the day I stood in front of the class even if I wasn’t sure exactly why I felt this way.

That moment sparked something inside me and ignited an obsession to write. I wrote pages and pages – all plays. In my mind, I fantasized about performing in front of my peers again although the other girls in my little group went back to jumping rope or playing tag on the playground, their careers on stage short-lived. There wouldn’t be any more plays performed in fourth grade.

It didn’t deter me. I kept writing. I kept imagining.

When the opportunity presented itself later in high school to study theatre with a small group locally, my parents agreed to let me go for it. I was always a quiet person so I’m not sure that many people believed I had much hope on the stage but I was determined enough to give it a try. As it turned out, I surprised us all, myself included.

I joined the group with big expectations … and a lot of fear. After all, the other kids in my group were far more outgoing, a little bit older, and certainly more experienced when it came to being on stage. Aside from my brief stardom in fourth grade, my stage credits went to torturing parents as my friends, cousins, brother, or anyone else I could coerce into engaging my obsession and I performed whatever I had come up with for the day.

I learned a lot about the theatre, not just acting but what goes on behind the scenes as well. And of course, the experience would not be complete without actually performing something. Our director chose a series of monologues written by students around our age called Sometimes I Wake Up in the Middle of the Night and assigned us each a character with our own history and experience which we as actors helped to create and develop. My character, Lisa, was the youngest of the bunch and the most naive.

Unlike most plays that tell a story and the characters interact with each other, our series of monologues meant that each actor had her own space on the stage and when it was our turn to speak, we took over the audience.

I suppose I could have been terrified and sure, on opening day, a part of me was. Family and friends would be attending. We’d made posters and shared them across the community. The newspaper wrote an article about us. When the curtain opened, there would be people occupying those seats, a lot more people than my fourth grade class. Those people had paid money to watch us perform so they’d have bigger expectations than a group of kids getting out of a math lesson. My director had her doubts that my quiet personality would fill the stage and so did I.

But you know what? Something magical happened what I stepped onto that stage. When the spotlight hit me, I came to life. I wasn’t nervous anymore. I wasn’t me anymore. I was Lisa and when I spoke about my loneliness and fears of the dark, the audience responded and I felt a strange connection that I’d only just hinted at before. By the time the spotlight went down after my first monologue and I sat in the darkness, I couldn’t wait until the spotlight returned to me so that I could continue to share my connection between Lisa and the audience. By the end of it, I’d impressed my director, my cast members, and the family and friends who’d come to see me and I’m pretty sure I’d done my part to satisfy the members of the audience that didn’t know the quiet Stephanie behind Lisa.

I’ve never stopped writing but every once in a while, I wonder to myself what keeps me going. After all, 90% of what I’ve written has never been shared and probably never will be. Being on the stage is very different from writing a novel but essentially storytelling is the same. The basic drive is bringing to life characters that will make the audience feel some sort of connection. On the stage, that connection is immediate. In a novel, I won’t know when you gasp or laugh or feel sad but I can hope that emotions still exist on the page. There is a dialogue that exists between the writer and the reader. In some way, our worlds come together and we share some common bond, even if it is only temporary.

Which books do you think have most successfully created connections with readers?

B is for Bacon, Boobs, and Beer – A Tragic Tale

Thank you Stephanie and Dave for supplying my B words of the day. You are both awarded honorary B’s! Yep, that’s the one … Best Buddies. 😉

friendsSo my little bacon bits… on with the post. Indeed, the late post.

This is a tale that begins with another B word, a British Boy who liked my boobs. His name is Stu.

DSC00277I met Stu once upon a beer in the beautiful city of London. Oh, the stories I could tell of London! Oh, the stories that I shouldn’t tell of London…

I liked this Stu guy so I stuffed him in my suitcase and dragged him back across the ocean with me to my home in the US. While we chose to settle here, all of his friends and family are still in England so that means that from time to time, visits are required.

There are many things that I love about England. Believe it or not, it’s not just a country of husband potential. There are slugs there too, really, really cool slimy slugs that crawl everywhere! Every evening I made Stu go for walks so that we could look at the slugs, get some fresh air, and explore. And yes, this also meant that we couldn’t walk past a graveyard without reading all the tombstones. (Why this guy married me is anyone’s guess.)

I love English cheeses to enjoy with a glass a wine. I love Hobnobs, especially the ones with chocolate.

I wish that I could say that I love the beer because there is definitely plenty to go around at the pub but I’ll stick with my rum and coke. I’ve never been much of a beer connoisseur.

And then … there is the Bacon. Oh yes.

Mind you, at home I’m not really much of a bacon-eater. I make it at most twice a year. Once on Christmas Eve when I put together our “crockpot breakfast casserole” that includes bits of fried bacon in addition to eggs, frozen hashbrowns, onion, and cheese. I throw it in the crockpot when we get back from Grandma’s house Christmas Eve night and by Christmas morning, it is a heavenly breakfast just waiting to be eaten. (Trust me!)

Beyond Christmas, well, every once in a blue moon I go insane and I decide it’s a good idea to pick up a package of bacon at the grocery store and randomly cook it for breakfast. Only problem is, I’m really the only one that cares to eat it and it’s more of a greasy headache than it’s worth.

American bacon is just messy.

But British Bacon. Oh my. Stu and his family introduced me to something they call a “bacon butty” and a mi me gusta mucho. As a matter of fact, whenever I visit, it’s a given that the in-laws will have bacon on hand to make me one for lunch.

I might love those people or something. They feed me.

So, how is this a tragic tale, you’re wondering?

Apparently, these delightful bacon sandwiches also come with another B word that I’m not so crazy about – Butter! As a matter of fact, it’s not so much that I don’t like butter, it’s more like I shudder at the thought of actually being in contact with the stuff. How can people put butter on their toast? On their potatoes? On their corn on the cob? Ick. Double ick. I’ve never liked butter and I never will. That goes for all the butter wannabes too like margarine and ‘I Can’t Believe it’s Not Butter’ but why the hell is it even trying? I’ve never liked butter and that fact is never going to change.

The in-laws know this and they respect my wishes. A bacon butty without butter is amazing but …

Sometimes people forget.

As a good guest, I don’t want to disappoint the people who go out of their way to try to please me with the things that I like so during my last visit, mouth watering as I sat down at the table for a bacon butty and a cup of tea and bit into a sandwich that had both sides slathered with butter…

I still ate it.

I guess that says something for British Bacon.

baconbutty