The Great Pumpkin

Happy Halloween Ghouls and Goblins!

Midwest Specifics

Where other's try to hawk and sell, North Dakota reminds us of what we have. 

Alongside HWY 81

Our little place in the Midwest PROLOGUE

The Year in Review

Over the last year my bedroom has stretched around the globe. Since saying goodbye to college, California and my favorite friend in May 2012, each season has brought a new home.

Summer 

My first place (EVER!) was a rundown motel in a abandoned town, on Highway 75, 14 miles from Stanley, ID. Mice scurried as I tried to sleep and the floorboards were one termite from utter destruction, but there were mountain top views beyond my bed. Outside a hammock balanced lanky limbs and a copy of War & Peace until the sunset.

My front yard, seriously. 

Fall/Southern Hemisphere Spring

Preston and I rented the balcony bedroom of a historic Sydney terrace home. The house sat above a brick laid park, with sidewalks were roads would be. Within twenty steps north or south was a pub, library, church and park. The house was furnished with an Ozzy man, an Irish lass, a South African dude and a very fat something-or-other cat. While living in Ultimo, we battled coach roaches, celebrated a summertime Christmas and wandered down the way to watch Sydney's Harbor fireworks.

Sydneysiders

Winter/Southern Hemisphere Summer

In the spirit of the bedtime classic Town Mouse, Country Mouse we booked one way tickets to the WA, to WOOF on a southern forest cattle farm. A campervan of our very own dwelled between pasture land and gum tree dells.  Morning, noon and night were met with cups of black tea and accented conversation. Between cuppas Preston served as a cow midwife and taught ukelele lessons, while I drove the family tractor. Kangaroo was ate, hay was hauled and the southern cross was bright.

The Farm

Winterish Spring/The Heat of Southern Hemisphere Summer/Between Here and There

Mid-February we moved to Manjimup Hostel, to live with our own kind, backpackers. The kitchen was dirty. The techno were ceaseless. And the goon, though very very expensive, was plentiful. Every morning we picked grapes with real-life Italians, harvested Apples with Belgians and worked in the fields with Taiwanese girls. The friendships were easy and the days were long.

Manji Nightlife

Before leaving the little bit of England and little bit of rough-n-tumble known as the land down under, we visited Perth.  Free black and white movies, bushels of Subway cookies and a terrible church service whiled away our city days. We never made it to Freo or the park across the city. But we lived in old barracks and slept in a thirty person room reminiscent of a Cambodian orphanage. The capitol city, and home of Heath Ledger, also marked the meeting of our final Australian friend, Seemoo.

Spring/The Hot Season(because that is a season in Thailand)

We had never planned to go to Thailand. It just seemed like the obvious next step, a quick escape route to beaches and Pad Thai. We went without plans.

Bankok's Cheapest/Most Interesting Hostel

Thailand is a place for being lost. We never quite knew what we were eating, where we were going or what we were seeing. Our feet led us down whichever way we hadn't been before. Bangkok was hot in way that my California sensibilities had never known. Two (hot, cold water does not exist) showers a day was the bare-minimum. We lived in a rundown building-turned hostel across from the outer suburb's brothel while learning Bangkok bus routes. Meals were a buffet of fresh pineapple, fried bananas and a few mystery pieces. We made home in an island hut, an old colonial city and above a Muy Thai arena. South East Asia was like nothing I had ever known before.

Summer

After a lunch stop in Tokyo we made it back to California just in time for my sister's graduation. June was a time for sandy toes and home-spun parties. Streamers were tapped up once a week in celebration of birthdays, graduations and a Christmas Fiesta. Trips to Trader Joe's and Target were a constant. Preston and I tromped around the paved paradises of Disneyland and Legoland. Once again I drove the familiar canyon roads that lead to my Pacific. And I as I prepared for my Midwest migration I started a blog.

The Welcome Home/Happy Graduation/Bon Voyage/Fish Funeral Party

Fall

For the first time since high school I will be residing in a single residence for an entire year. The lease has been signed and the pictures hung. Fargo is our first year-round home. We've witnessed the leaves the change and the first snow fall. I eat pasta salad and drink micro-brews. I haven been to Wal-Mart an ungodly amount of times. The people are kind the roads are wide. We own a couch; this is home. 

Cozy Sunday

Midwest Specifics

 Preston's ideal beer, a punny IPA, is crafted at our very own Fargo Beer Company.

Pumpkin Patch POINTS!!

This week was our pumpkin week.We planned to paint, chisel and carve jack-o-lanterns Sunday afternoon. Rain, sleet or snow to the pumpkin patch we'd a-go. Flying south to Sydney last October caused a 2012 Fall vacancy. Pumpkins, wool sweaters and cider were needed in double force this year.

The Great Pumpkin

After googling the options, we decided on a local heirloom patch nestled between two highways. Nourished on banana pancakes and Lutheran coffee, we crossed over the Red River into Minnesota. After nearly missing the small segway road, Goldie, our jeep, splashed her way to our puddlely destination. Exhibit A is a glimpse of what we found. 

Exhibit A

Hello? Anybody home?

Midwest Me

Outside Goldie's fogged windows lay a forlorn gourd garden. It seemed that the caretakers abandoned the patch at the first drop of rainy-snow, or snowy-rain, depending on one's personal prerogative. Perhaps these Midwesterns weren't as sturdy as I thought. Or perhaps they are just smarter than two California's willing to wade, doggy paddle and trudge through mud, for the sake of a pumpkin. Whichever the case Thor, the bestower of Midwest Points, awarded me 4 MIDWEST POINTS for my hearty devotion despite ambiguous October precipitation. 

                                                                   Exhibit B

Casually Braving a Snow Sprinkle

                                                        4  MIDWEST POINTS

Slippers Weather

Taking a cue from the community garden caretakers Preston and I headed someplace cozy. Home. Without pumpkins to lobotomize our schedule freed up for some sunday sleepies. It's thirty-two outside and for the first time this year our heat is on. Outside the damp mix of raindrops and snowflakes remind us that winter is coming. BUT NOT BEFORE I GET A PUMPKIN. 

Dressed for the Occasion

Midwest Specifics

It's a beautiful day in the neighborhood, a beautiful in the neighborhood.*

*I am actually friends with the downtown pedestrian mailman, now all I need is an a trolley. 

Sunny Day

Unlikely Favorites

I have a thing for the under-dog days of the week. Friday and Saturday are fine by me. But it's Thursday and Sunday that win my heart.

Thursday Totality 

I love the happy anticipation of Thursdays. Historically, my childhood confirmation classes were held on Thursday. Which meant that my three best friends and I (and our respective crushes) were together for two and half giggly hours. High school thursdays were spent studying history in the living room with my dad. Weekend planning and day early cocktails took place during my undergrad years. Midwest Thursdays translate into YMCA yoga and culinary adventures in the realm of Chile Colorado and Seared Lime Chicken. By principle, Thursdays are never busy. The week's diminuendo rises and falls from dawn to dusk; it song is sung dulce. 

Surmising Sunday

Sunday has a less fixed persona. It's character flux stems from its dualistic position. According the bible-fearing folk it is the final day of the week, a day for rest. Yet calendars place it in the number one spot. And in the that sense it is the first chance at a new week. Sunday is a day for big newspapers, hangovers and children's soccer games. To me, Sunday has a wonderful new feeling about it. I like to do what I like to do on Sundays. On the first and last day of the week I read library books, take bubble baths, watch M*A*S*H* reruns, bake granola, call my mom, browse the grocery store aisles, search for dandelions, groove to old records, dust in long socks, smoke the occasional cigar and do my best to wake up for church. And on special day Sundays I eat brunch.

Brunchday

Today was one of those special days. After a half -session at church (looking for missing shoes can lead to such situations) Preston surprised me with a a trip to Fargo's famed Granite City brunch. The packed buffet had enough carbs to nourish the Green Bay Packers. We feasted on luscious french toast, refined eggs benedict, scoops of potato goo, bouquets of bacon, mildly-healthy grilled chicken, strawberry flooded waffles, Tex-Mex biscuits and gravy, dressing drowned Caesar salad, super model-thin cantaloupe slices, hunky prime rib and freakishly tall caramel rolls. We rolled out of the brewery without even touching the omelet station. A walk was desperately needed.

Finding Fall

The scent of autumn filled our Sunday afternoon at Lindednwood park. We walked along the Red River, flopped on too-small seesaws and witnessed 74,390,234,783.56 mom-created photo-shots. A Lindenwood stroll is an ideal way to while away a "warm" October afternoon.

MIDWEST NOTE: All the locals were in shorts and t-shirts, including the five old photo-shoot children. It was 50 out.  
-1 Midwest Point=Wearing a coat and gloves

Now we are home in flannel. Wearing circus tent-sized flannel shirts is another one my Sunday things.

Midwest Specifics

While the predicted Saturday snowflakes stood us up this weekend, the one and only* Oscar Mayer Weiner-Mobile made a very celebrated appearance.

*in current commission, we were informed of the many Weiner-Mobiles of yesteryear

GAME COUNT

Having an Iconic Photo-Op while doing the Sunday shopping= 5 MIDWEST POINTS

Winning a Weine-Whistle=2 MIDWEST POINTS

DISCLAIMER: I will forever be a Hebrew Nationals fan, but I am an overall hotdog enthusiast of any kind.

There & Back Again

Back Again, For Real This Time 

Last Sunday Preston and I made a second attempt to reach the illustrious Little Yellowstone. Well informed of the desolate, in a North Dakota kind of desolate, and narrow route we made sure to bring supplies this time.We hit the road with two Subway foot longs and mug half full of coffee.

The Way

A long hour and half later we found a Midwest rarity, a change in elevation. Travel seems to stretch when the way is straight and flat. Paint chipped churches with broken bell-tower windows were the forms that dare break the silence of the prairie scene. Our jeep discovered the ebb and flow of land like a mounting roller coaster. The square grill leaned in and over the highway slope for only a moment before making the plunge into a peak of autumnal color.

There at Last

As RV's packed up and golden retrievers bounded for a final round of catch, Preston and I nestled in for a slightly colder than expected Sunday picnic. We soon discovered that our well earned victory of finally finding Little Yellowstone, did nothing for our body heat. After wolfing down our subs we saddled up in the jeep. It turns out scenic sights are all the more magnificent with the heat on.

It's coming...

Only a couple weeks past the fall equinox & just a day into October...

& there is a snowflake smack dab in the middle of my first Saturday off.