Boat Trip Part 2

So there we were, cruising around the beautiful Lake Amistad enjoying the warm sun, cool breeze, and salty peanut butter sandwiches.

Minding our own business.

Do you know what happens when a small child is walking on the deck of a moving boat and the boat comes to sudden and startled stop?

Phoebe, the Super-baby missile!!!

(Luckily I have the reflexes of a much younger woman. NOT. Luckily Phoebe was wearing a very soft and bouncy life jacket!)

So there we were, floating aimlessly in the middle of a lake, under a hot, hot sun, breeze gone, and sandwiches now fish food after flying through the air.

What to do?

Hey Jerry. Whatchoo doing sitting up front?


I see our wake but who is driving?

Oh, I see! The salty old lake-bird from the marina is tugging us back to the marina behind a really old and sad looking ski boat!

There can be good that comes from a broken boat. Now there is plenty of time for playing with Dad, the kids favorite person.

And Josh can steer the boat to his hearts content.

I didn't get any photos of the exchange, but a different boat dude from the marina met us about halfway back with a replacement pontoon boat. As we were planning on calling it a day anyway before the first boat broke we decided to just cruise on back to the marina.

It didn't take us long before we realized there was something wrong with this new boat. When we first boarded it, we noticed how wet everything was, like someone had just sprayed it with a hose. That's what I assumed the marina-man had done to warsh away the spiders and other various creepy crawly stow-aways so pervasive on the marina's boats.

But after a few more miles per hour, the mystery of the water was solved.

It was like our own personal spray ground right there on pontoon boat #2!

The water just splashed and splashed up onto the decking, coming from the front left corner. The kids had a blast standing in the oncoming deluge! See, they even had their own swimming pool on the front left bench!

I had the only dry seat on board in the front right corner. Poor Jerry who was once again acting Skipper was wetter than them all!

His cheeks hurt from laughing by the time we made it back to the marina.

So despite our first broken boat, then second breaking boat, we had a really fun time on the lake. We got to see some goats, "check the pH" of the water, get splashed violently over and over, and eat lots of snacks. Over all a great day!

And we were reminded yet again why we will never, ever, never ever ever ever ever buy a boat again.

We'll just keep breaking the ones at the marina instead!

The Big Boat Trip

If you're not tired of hearing about it yet, there is another perk to living in this area and being in the military. The Southwinds Marina. It's only open to military personnel or others with a government job. At the marina they have boat slips, canoes, kayaks, ski boats, fishing boats, and pontoon boats for rent all at reasonable prices.

So a few weekends ago we decided to rent an 8 person pontoon boat and take the kids out onto the lovely and always awesome Lake Amistad.


After showing your boating ID card, you head down to the boathouse where a grizzly old boat man will show you to your boat for a three hour tour.

Or more. Two hours minimum.


Paige and Josh really liked the look of the fishing pontoon boat. I think they really just wanted to get on those swivel chairs and go around and around and around.

I kind of wanted to to.


After getting underway, the kids rushed to the front of the boat and gloried in the fresh breeze, the blue water, and bluer sky.

What a rush!


After thirty seconds Josh and Phoebe got bored of the rush and moved on to other diversions. Paige, however, held on to her post and became the look out girl/front-boat driver.

Just what Jerry needs; another female not behind the drivers wheel telling him what to do.

Not that I ever do that.

Who me?


Josh took his turn steering the boat while it was at full power. He did a great job. A great job scaring the crap out of Paige at least.

I guess her confidence in four year old boy boat drivers is pretty low.


Dad, I told you to go THAT way!!


Phoebe tried steering the boat as well. As she couldn't see over the dash and didn't understand what the heck was going on, Jerry felt the need to keep one hand on the wheel at all times.

Therefore, Phoebe spent her entire time "steering" the boat actually trying to push, pull, bite, and wedge Jerry's hand off of the steering wheel. She's nothing if not persistent.


I'll do a proper post on Lake Amistad at a later date, but I will mention here how windy it always is. After all, it is the largest man-made lake in the U.S., is in the middle of the desert, and is surrounded but lots of nothing.

The sailors love it.


After driving around for a while, we found a quiet corner to anchor the boat so we could go pee. I mean, so we could go swimming.


Jerry jumped in first, and when the kids balked at jumping the four feet down into the "scary" lake water, I obliged by shoving them in.

One day they'll thank me.


The water looks more green in the photos than it really is in person. It's very clear though, clear enough that you can see way past your toes, down to the spooky layer where all of the 300 pound catfish live.

We didn't mention anything about 300 pound fish to Paige. She was freaked out enough.

We did spot the ever elusive white moon fish. See it floating just south of the littlest redhead?

Why put on a swimming diaper in the lake when you're just jumping in to go pee anyway?


Back on board, we started cruising around seeing the sights. The kids really enjoyed the goats all along the banks. Some where really, really big and some of their kids were really, really small.

And the males had really, really big hang-downs.

Eww. Gross. I'm sorry. (But they were HUGE!!!)


We enjoyed an hour or so ride up the the cliffs at Rough Canyon. It's an area with a public marina and a few Mom and Pop resorts.

It was a perfect day out on the lake.

Or was it?

Funky Bowl

Mondays are bowling days here in our little corner of the world. Even though the bowling alley on base is open throughout the week, only on Mondays is it Dollar Daze. $1 shoe rentals, $1 per person per game, $1 small soft drinks, hot dogs, french fries, and hamburgers.

If you don't know how much it costs to go bowling at full price you would be shocked. SHOCKED I tell you!

But not on Mondays!

We all love to bowl. Well, not Jerry but he's an-anti dork so he doesn't count. The kids and I however all embrace our dorkiness and therefore enjoy the sport thoroughly.

Especially Josh. He's just developing his latent level of dorkiness. We'll have to watch and see....

When we bowl, girls go first. Girls always go first in our house. If we follow other patriarchal societal rules in this life ladies, we may as well get to go first, too.

Woa. Sorry. Got a little extra dorky for a second. I'll get back to bowling....


Even though Paige will be seven in a few months, she still insists on bowling like this. It's just awful. She also insists on bowling in skirts or dresses. Again, awful.

She doesn't know it yet but this coming Monday she's going to learn how to roll the ball properly. (Can you buy bowling lane damage waivers for accidental child-induced mid-lane craters? Probably not.)


If this is not the most lady-like position in the whole world, I don't know what is.

Yes. Very attractive.

It may be ugly, but it gets the job done! Good one Paige! Right down the middle!

Going 4 mph.

You've got to roll it faster!


Great job! A 7/3 split!! Good luck with that!


Sometime after one of Paige's turns and before Josh's, the bowling alley went funky. Black lights, flashy LED's, and 80's music bumping in the background. Mind you, it was 2pm.

Bow chicka bow wow!


Josh's turn!

No, Rufus' turn!

You know how you enter your name and it magically appears on the screen above you for all of the place to see? Well, we decided to go with funky, cool names for fun. Two weeks ago we were Princess, Prince, and Queen. I loved being royalty!

Last week we were Bird, Rufus, and Squeak.

I've got to come up with one for this coming Monday. I wonder if Natasha will fit?


Yes. You are very strong!


Great roll! It should reach the pins in about five minutes after banging back and forth against the bumpers umpteen times. Going 2mph.

Hey Rufus! Your show are glowing!

So how did we do? Are we any good? How deep does our commitment to dorkiness go?

Week 1 Scores: Game 1 - Game 2 - Game 3

Paige 70 73 69
Josh 72 69 89
Paula 123 120 108 (if there's one thing I am is inconsistent. Strike followed up by a gutter ball. What is that? Oh, and have you seen my thumb nail? I lost it somewhere around frame 4.)

Week 2:

Paige 82
Josh 68
Phoebe 66 (never again. Never. EVER!!!!)
Paula 128

There you go. Not too bad, not too good. But worth every single $1. (Week 1 cost us $15 total for three hours of fun. Not bad, huh?)

They have a family league. Did I mention that?

I wonder what our matching bowling shirts should say?

The Cactus Cup

Before I entertain you with stories from New England, let me back up and show you a few more things we are enjoying here in the desert.

Before I entertain you with stories of things we're enjoying here in the desert, let me back up and explain a small point I've been meaning to make.

We love it here, there's no doubting that. We like the city of Del Rio and the desert is cool, no HOT, but the other huge reason we love it here is because of living on base. I won't bore you with details but living on this base in particular is great because of an almost limitless number of activities that are close, clean, and safe.

Like the bowling alley, the library, the pool, an auto hobby shop, a framing shop, shopping, bike paths, nature trails, digging for fossils, playgrounds, the running track, and the soccer field.

I've never played soccer for recreation, only for a few painful weeks back in high school P.E. (There's lots of running in soccer and back then I was a running wimp.)

But while reading The Pioneer Woman the other day (love her!), I read about how her family plays soccer together on occasional evenings. I loved the idea of that and thought our crew might enjoy doing that as well.

So instead of taking the kids running like I do most mornings, we stopped at the track so we could play soccer.

At first the kids were all very enthusiastic. Imagine caged animals being set free and you'll have a proper mental picture of their initial excitement. They burst out of the gate and went for the ball like sharks on chum.


Josh quickly took the position of goalie because it allowed him to legally pick up the ball with his hands.

What he misunderstood though, was that we were playing soccer and not keep-away-from-Phoebe. I tried to explain to him that until she is quite a bit older, she will never, ever be able to chase him or Paige down and the take the ball from them. He has to give it to her. Yes, babe. On purpose. Right now.


Like everything else sporty or physical he's tried, Josh was a natural at kicking the ball. I didn't have to teach him a thing. He looked like a miniature World Cup hero in the making all by God-given talent. (Good for him...little jerk.)


Paige on the other hand learned her mad soccer skills from me, the BEST soccer player in the UNIVERSE!!!! (I'm so sorry Paige. I hope Dad can fix you later.) (I love you!)


Phoebe eventually gave up trying to play the field and decided to take a turn at being goalie.



Unfortunately Josh wasn't having it. Poor Phoebe. You'll get there my sweet little puddle maker. And when you do watch out world, here comes Super-Phoebe!!!

Overall it was a fun experience that lasted maybe ten minutes. We'll try again sometime this week.

Maybe we'll make it eleven minutes!

GGOOOOOOAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!

Back at Last

Hello there!

Remember me? The Desert Girl? The one who went on vacation last week and have been absent from your lives all of that time?

I'm BAAaack!!

Did you miss me?

I missed you. Honestly. I sometimes feel some kind of pressure to blog everyday though I certainly know that I don't have to blog at all. I'm sure the kids would love it if I quit.

I thought I could take a week off and enjoy the time away. I have, truly, but truly I have missed logging on and connecting however remotely to my online friends. You know, it takes a village to raise a child.

With that said, I have to tell you that the internet access at our camper is non-existent. So my only opportunity to get online will be when I pile the kids into the car and drive them to a hotspot and try to get all of my computer stuff done before the kids drive me insane.

Or pee on the floor of the library like Phoebe just did.

Oops.

I have lots of stories and pictures from our trip to post but it will have to wait for another day. A less pee pee on the carpet of a family friendly on base facility kind of day.

Really quickly though, I did get a chance to go running on base this morning without the kids so I could jam out listening to my iPod. Oh, running with music is so awesome!

On my run on the dirt road I saw a roadrunner. These critters are so cool! The are small, only about the size of a small chicken, but they are very long. The one I saw this morning was probably 24" from beak to the tip of its tail.

I guess it was that long. It ran away very quickly when it saw me and MAN! can those suckers fly!! No, not fly. I've never actually seen one fly into the air but they run so fast it may as well be flying. It's a gorgeous sight to behold.

I'll be doing a desert critter post soon so you can see and hear all about the other wildlife we have here in Nowhereland.

And you won't even have to wear jeans or sneakers!

Say a Little Prayer for Me!!!!

It's crazy pack and move time again!

In the morning we are checking out of our temporary lodging facility, forever, since they won't continue our reservation although we have one booked through October 2nd. Then we are driving to San Antonio, three hours away, so we can look at some rental properties for when we will be living there beginning August 1st through January 15th.

Got all of that so far?

Wednesday night we will stay on base at Randolph AFB or possibly get a hotel room somewhere next to some poor schmuck not expecting to have the redhead zoo move in beside them.

Thursday morning or early afternoon, we will be flying to Newark, NJ. In Newark we will pick up our rental car and drive 2 and a half hours north to a quaint town in Connecticut to visit my grandmother and Aunt.

Phew!

We will fly back to San Antonio on Monday and then drive to Del Rio late Monday or early Tuesday. Then we will be living in our 300 square foot travel trailer RV until the end of the month when we will move semi-permanently to San Antonio.

It should be interesting to live for three weeks in 300 square feet with three kids and one Great Dane who is scared of conflict.

Prayers would be appreciated!

Today I had to pack for all of this. Already all of our belongings are divided into two groups: Stuff we won't need until we move into our permanent house after coming back to Del Rio from San Antonio in January, and the stuff we'll need until then and will bring with us to San Antonio.

For the past few weeks our San Antonio stuff has been with us in TLF scattered hither an yon. But TLF is 1300 sq. ft. and the camper is only 300 sq. ft. so some stuff has got to go.

So I repacked everything into one of four categories:

1. Stuff to take with us on the short trip to Connecticut.
2. A little bit more stuff to take with us in the camper for the next three weeks, but not too much because space is at a minimum.
3. Stuff that we will need in San Antonio but don't need for the next three weeks that we can put in our storage facility with the rest of our stuff until we go to San Antonio.
4. Other miscellaneous things that have been unnecessary and can go into permanent storage with our furniture and other housewares.

Got that?

Me neither.

All that's left in TLF right now is the stuff for our Connecticut trip, a half gallon of milk, 2 yogurts, 2 Vault Zeros, and the last of a bottle of wine that is slowly disappearing down my gullet.

Moral of the story: Now you'll understand exactly why I might not be posting much in the next few days.

The Desert Girl is going Yankee.

Wicked Awesome!!!!

Prickly Pear Juice

Ah, yes. Another gorgeous day here in the Texas desert. No, no, I won't bore you with another introspective about clouds and pee-sychology basic elements.

But they sure are pretty clouds, no?


Today I will be talking ad nauseum about harvesting and making prickly pear juice. Remember me telling you about the prickly pear fruit being in season? From what I hear, you can make pretty durn good jelly from the juice of the prickly pear "tuna", and from personal experience, the juice also makes one fine margarita!

Ole!


So one fine afternoon, we loaded the kids up in the trusty "Burban", and headed off to an undisclosed location to harvest some fruit.

(Even after cursory searching of the internet, we, I mean I, were still unsure about the laws concerning harvesting prickly pear, so to keep things ambiguous the exact location of our hunt will remain anonymous.)


Paige and Josh were eager to help pluck the gorgeous purple fruit off of the cactus. (Notice the tennis shoes! Still no jeans, but it's 100 degrees outside!)

We were instructed to use tongs to safely remove the fruit.

Again, Jerry is learning that I might be useful after all. Is he still questioning why I brought grilling tongs with us to temporary housing? Nope. You just never know...

...especially with us "air" people, being all lofty and stuff.


In order to render 2 cups of juice, we needed approximately 30 fruit. Yeesh. As much fun (not) as it was to watch the kids fight over who had the tongs and who had the bag, Jerry finally took over and made quick work of deflowering an unsuspecting cactus.

Of course he left the lowest fruit in place for all of the wildlife to eat. (But really, there are a billion of these cactus around here full of fruit. Who would eat them anyway?)


We got the fruit home in our trusty H-E-B reusable shopping bag*, and after putting the kids to bed seven hours later, we got to work on the juicing procedure.

*I would not recommend using a mesh or similar type bag to transport prickly pear fruit. The little barbs, aka glochids, go right through and will end up all over the floorboards of your car and in your house. Remember the glochid I had in my toe for a week? Yep. An H-E-B bag escape.)


Once in the sink, run them under water and give them a good scrubbing with a long handled scrubby sponge. (I apologize. I had a very energetic photo of me giving the fruit a good pummeling in the sink with the sponge but it must have gotten deleted off of my camera.)


Once you have the fruit cleaned, there are different steps you can take to render their juice.

Jerry opted for the one that required us to buy the food chopper he's been nagging me to buy for the past few years.

Men and their toys, I tell ya.


For this procedure you take a paring knife and carefully remove the skin off of the fruit. I chopped off the ends and stood it up on the fat bottom, and with downward slices removed the skin one section at a time.


The fruit looks all cool here, and the color is fantabulous, but the fruit is really full of dark seeds. Like a pomegranate. You buy one from the store for curiosities sake, and when you open it at home you think, "What the heck? How am I supposed to eat that?"


Once you have a bunch of the peeled fruit in the blending contraption of choice, blend it up until juicy.

Look at that color. It's the exact shade of magenta I want to dye the lower third layer of my hair but haven't yet because I'm too chicken.


Next, poor the slop into a double layer of cheesecloth, or for those who are living in temporary lodging facilities in the middle of nowhere and can't find cheesecloth to save their lives, a clean dish towel will do the trick, too.


Then, squeeze the cheesecloth* like you're really mad at it to extract the juice, leaving the bits and seeds behind in the cloth.

*If you must use a dish towel, make sure you have a really large, buff, and strong man nearby to help you squeeze the juice out. If not, forget about it. You won't get a drop.


Next you...

...will have to wait until a future post! I don't want to give away all of my secrets on one post!

Until later!



P.S. If you receive a jar of prickly pear jelly, juice, or salsa from us for Christmas, don't be grossed out by the resident spider of the prickly pear we harvested. It's only slightly poisonous and a mere two inches long. Bon appetite!