Lost in Durham

by Abby

See this park.

Looking at this map, you'd never guess that this park is cloaked in an invisibility shield. You'd never know this because you would probably make all the right (or left) turns and end up zipping down the slide or flying in the swings in under five minutes.

I, on the other hand, fell victim to the park's invisibility shield for a full hour as I looped around and around just catching glimpses of what I knew must be the space in which the park was contained while never actually finding the entrance.

Sadly, I can't even use the excuse of it being in an unfamiliar neighborhood. This park is seriously right behind Local Yogurt and with as much time as I spend there, I should know my way around.

Instead, I will blame the trees which provided superior camouflage; the technology that was bombarding me (You try melding written directions from a friend with Google maps on your iPhone all while your GPS is screaming at you to "Turn around when possible."); the missing street sign on the corner; and what is obviously a secret government experiment in land disappearances.

Abby is constantly lost both on the actual road and on the road of life. But she does usually persevere and eventually finds her way. You can read about all her journeys at My Sweet Babboo or follow her ramblings on Twitter.

On the Right Path

I don't want to sleep there, I'm not particularly interested in peeing there, and I certainly don't want to cook there, but I do love the woods. I love the Black Mountains specifically, and I love streams.

I'm not sure why we don't do more hiking. We have the dogs for it. We have the kid for it. We have the love for it. We just don't get around to it.

My husband, Kevin is a doer. There is always a project either in full swing or in planning mode. It is one thing I love about him. He finishes what he starts, and he starts big things. His plans are not lightly made nor are they easy to finish. Right now, he is adding onto the house. Just he and the contractor. When he comes home from work , he works some more. On the weekends, he's building. I'm excited for the new spaces, but I think I am more excited for him to finish so that I have some of his time and attention back.

All this to say, I think this is why we don't hike. We do things together as much as possible, but this is a stage in our life where Kevin is determined to get things in order. I love him for that. I miss him, but I love him.

While we were in the mountains recently, staying in Catawba Falls Preserve, I had him back to myself one day. He wanted to know what I wanted to do, and I chose this hike. We packed a backpack full of snacks, water, and diapers. The dogs got to tag along and tap into their inner hunters. Gibson, our chocolate lab, ran out about 10 feet ahead with his tail pointed straight up. He even helped corral Little Bird when he got too far ahead of us. Our English Setter, Aja, stayed on leash and ignored her bird dogs instincts in favor of reading the mail on the ground.

We missed a turn along the way - rather, I missed a turn, and we ended up about 40 minutes off track. Luckily, we had also packed our Babyhawk, so tired Bird could ride on his daddy's back when he got tired. And after playing nekkid in the creek for awhile?

Bird was really really tired.

It was a great day with my boys, my dogs, and a trail in the mountains.

When she isn't dreaming of her own mountain getaway, Marty blogs at Don't Take the Repeats. When she has less to say, she resorts to quipping on Twitter.

An Open Letter to a Tree

Dear New Pine Tree at the Koka Booth Amphitheater in Cary,

Congratulations on growing up in North Carolina, where you will be revered as an official state symbol. Nice work!

However, while I fully respect your right to live and grow and enhance the environment of the old North State, I question your specific location for putting down roots. Although it may not have been your personal choice, I hope you can understand my frustration.

Earlier this summer, my husband and I brought our almost-4-year-old son with us to see Cirque de la Symphonie. It was a fantastic show for the whole family, combining beautiful symphony music with spectacular acrobatics and circus performers -- but then, you already knew that since you had a much better view of the show than we did, as we were seated behind you and could barely see through or around your lovely fringed branches.

Yes, I know, we didn't get there the exact second the gates opened, as it seemed everyone else must have done. And I know we could still hear our wonderful state symphony no matter the view. But we arrived more than an hour and a half before the show was scheduled to begin, so it didn't seem like too much to ask that we be able to see the acrobats, dancers and jugglers as well. Sadly, the only spaces available were those with obstructed views (see photo -- note that we cannot see the stage at all).

Perhaps you may want to talk with your arbor crew about why they would intentionally plant a young, short and very full pine tree in the middle of the seating area? Seems like it's going to be a decade or more before you are tall enough to provide any noticeable shade without boxing out scores of people behind you. Not to mention that they planted you right between two other (much taller) pines, so I expect you're going to feel a bit crowded as you get older. Really, I'm only thinking of you.

I promise I am not opposed to trees, in fact I think they're quite lovely. And I'm not even opposed to trees at an amphitheater, provided they are tall enough that the branches don't block the view.

But seriously. It's an amphitheater. Why go out of your way to prevent guests from seeing the very stage they paid money to see?

Sincerely,
Cyndi

P.S. Very sorry about your 14 friends that were recently removed from my yard. It's nothing personal, I promise. I just really like an open view.

An original Triangle Mamas post. When Cyndi isn't complaining about nature or hiring lumberjacks, she can be found blogging about all sorts of non-tree-related things at Junius & Pippi Take the Cake.

He's a Lumberjack and He's Okay, He Sleeps All Night and Works All Day

I'm not sure at what point in a person's career path one decides to become a tree removal specialist. Does your guidance counselor suggest that your propensity for strapping spikes to your boots could be useful for climbing trees? Or do you just feel that being suspended in the air with a chain saw tied to your belt sounds like fun? Or maybe it's that conquering anything outside that's 90-feet tall beats tackling a 90-page pile of paperwork inside any day.

Either way, I'm thankful that someone else takes that path (however he or she gets there), because there is no way in hell I could do it. Not that I'm in the market for a new career at the moment anyway (seeing as there's all this laundry to do and dinner to make and research reports to write), but after watching the crew from Arbor Barber Tree Service at my house on Tuesday, I'm more certain than ever that it's not the path for me.

Once I recovered from the painful shock of seeing the first of 14 pine trees get decapitated, dismembered and ground into bits, it was quite an impressive performance. Like a really loud and slightly violent assembly-line choreography with this continuous flow of tree parts moving across my yard and out into the street. Each man worked his specialty area, whether in the enormous crane or up in the trees or down on the ground. From take-down to clean-up, it was a seamless process that moved surprisingly quickly.

So now that we're a month into hurricane season, if you're looking up at those tall pine trees wobbling around your yard and wondering how much wind it would take to knock one into your living room, call over to Arbor Barber and see if they can fit you into their schedule. And if you're thinking that hurricanes (or ice storms) don't affect us here in Raleigh, ask one of your neighbors if the name "Fran" means anything to them.

An original Triangle Mamas post. When Cyndi isn't basking in all her newly-available sunlight (wearing SPF30, of course), she can be found blogging at Junius & Pippi Take the Cake. It should also be noted that no compensation was offered or received from Arbor Barber Tree Service in exchange for this post.

Living is Easy with Eyes Closed

It's Spring time in the Triangle and you know what that means: STRAWBERRIES! Whether you find yours at the Farmers' Market or you head out and pick your own, the time to do it is now.

Linus's playgroup ventured to a local farm right here in Durham County where the berries were sweet, the weekday crowds small, and the picking cheap. At $1.35 per pound, you can afford to be greedy.

Grab your buckets, baskets, and rainboots (if it's just rained) and get yourself to a farm.

They won't even mind if you taste a few.

Of course, the kids may be enthralled with the farm machinery far more than the berries but you'll be pleased either way.

When the World Stops for a Day

If you've come here from the North, you might say that the Triangle doesn't get much snow. If you've come here from the Deep South, then you have seen the biggest snows of your life here. No matter where you were before you lived in North Carolina, one thing is always amazing about the snow.

It stops everything. School, work, errands, meetings, whatever, are all put on hold while we gather our bread, batteries, and milk and snuggle in to watch the snow fall. Then, we all bundle up the family in snow gear likely only used once or twice, and we go outside to play.

Snow days are my favorite days.

From Triangle Mamas to you, Happy Snow Day!

Marty and her family

 

Abby and her family:

Nikki and her family:

An original Triangle Mamas post.

We Have a Winner!

Triangle Mamas would like to congratulate Heather on winning our very first giveaway! You can find Heather at Vanilla Pudding for My Soul. Random.org chose Heather our of all the comments left before this past Friday at midnight.

Thank you to everyone who entered and linked to our contest.

Water of Life

Here is a sampling from the CD you can enter to win by commenting on this post. You have until Friday at midnight to enter, and if you link back to our contest on your blog and leave another comment with the link, you'll be entered twice!

Win the Beauty of the North Carolina Mountains in Music and Watercolors

These days, a blog just isn't a blog unless it's giving something away. I've seen giveaways for countless toys and games for your kids, but rarely something just for Mom.

That's where we come in.

This week, we are giving away a copy of Bill Leslie's newest book and CD, Blue Ridge Reunion. Granted, if I want Christopher to go to sleep in the car, it's the first CD I go to. He's usually out by the end of the first track. And the book is a picture book . . . but not the kind you are used to reading before bedtime.

The pictures in this book were painted by Bill's father. He was a watercolor artist, much like Bill is a musician. On the side.

Bill's father owned a bookstore in Morganton, North Carolina. Bill says they carried a little bit of everything really. And after hours, his father would paint. Like his father, Bill pursues his artistic passions after hours. He is an award winning anchorman on WRAL in the mornings, and an award winning musician on the side.

The paintings in the book are incredible portraits of the North Carolina mountains. There is, in my humble opinion, no place on earth more beautiful than western North Carolina, and William Leslie captured that beauty in simple, pure, watercolors.

I don't have to wax poetic about the beauty of Bill's music. Plenty of people have done that already. Yo-Yo Ma called Bill "one of the greats in modern Celtic music" during an interview Bill was conducting with him, and author Jan Karon uses Bill's music on her website as the perfect musical backdrop. The CD has been receiving generous airplay on new age stations around the world, was number 1 on the world music charts in September and number 2 in October.

I cite my references as I glow about him because I am a little biased. Those are my backing vocals you will hear on the three vocal tracks. I laugh when I say that I'm finally doing music my parents enjoy, but it's true, and I'm proud of that.

Bill has generously given us a copy of both the book and the CD to giveaway here on Triangle Mamas. He has a soft spot for babies and for mamas. The three ladies he shares the WRAL news desk with have six children between them, Christopher attends our band rehearsals on my back in our Babyhawk, and our violinist will be bringing her nine month baby belly to our gig at the Grove Park Inn in February. 

That's Mr. Leslie just above there with a tiny tiny Little Bird way back when. . .

Pardon my distraction. He's just such a cute baby.

You want this CD. You want it with a glass of wine, a warm bath, and a husband who is watching your kids for an entire hour. The book is going to look beautiful on your coffee table, and I dare say we can even get him to sign it for you if you like.

For anyone who loves North Carolina, this is the perfect Christmas gift. Even if that "anyone" is yourself.

Leave us a comment. That's all you have to do to enter. Link to our contest and leave us another comment with that link and you get two entries. It's that simple.

Entries will be accepted until midnight this Friday, December 12. We'll post the winner over the weekend. Please make sure that we can get in touch with you via email in case you win!

This is an original Triangle Mamas post. Marty can also be found blogging at her personal blog, Don't Take the Repeats when she isn't slacking off on Facebook.

North Carolina's family beach

I know a beach is the right sort when I walk along the sand and feel that particular sense of peace flooding through my heart. At the same time, the right sort of beach is stimulating to the senses; it sharpens your ears and your eyes and your taste buds. You may feel small next to the sea, a speck on a great shoreline, but you also feel more alive.

I grew up spending half my summers on the Oregon coast with my grandparents, which means that I have my own set of standards when it comes to beach vacations. Since moving to the east coast, I�ve visited beaches in Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New Jersey, Maryland, Virginia, and North Carolina. I�ve liked some. I�ve hated some. I�ve felt at home on only one so far.

And Triangle-dwellers, it�s only a few hours away.

Holden Beach is a small island off the North Carolina coast, a short way past Wilmington. It calls itself �the family beach.� I�ve never been there in the hot and humid height of tourist season, but it�s been relatively quiet and charming during the times I have gone, spring and fall. My husband�s aunt and uncle and their relatives have a small, delightfully kitschy beach house on the island, and we�ve used the place a number of times, thanks to their generosity. There are numerous other houses there to rent or buy, right on the beach or within a few minutes� walk.

The small coastal town bustle is somewhat removed from the beach, separated from the oceanside neighborhoods by a bridge that looks, when you drive up it, as though it might just disappear or drop into the sea (it doesn�t). Once you cross the bridge, you�re in what feels like a quaint little village, a peaceful communion of houses and sand and water and your friendly fellow vacationers, with a few tiny local establishments peppered across the island for convenience.

It�s not a fancy place. There�s no boardwalk with blaring music and a ferris wheel and trash cans every five feet. But if you are something of a beach minimalist - dare I say purist - like I am, then it�s got everything you need. A pretty, peaceful shore runs the full length of Holden Beach, facing the sparkling Atlantic. It�s just you and your family and the ocean, the way it�s supposed to be.

An original Triangle Mamas post. Nikki is a beachwalker and blogger who also writes at A Small Song.

An Impromptu Trip to the River

Last week, I had a day where I was desperate to get out of the house.  I wanted to be doing something, anything other than folding laundry and picking up toys.  So while two-year old Logan was emptying the contents of his sippy cup again, I asked him if he wanted to go play in the water.  I meant the pool, of course, and he quickly scrambled into his car seat.  As we passed the entrance to the Eno River State Park, Logan started pointing and saying �Wav-ver, Mom-mee.  Right there.  Go Wav-ver!�  Logan had his own idea for our outing.

�You want to go to river?� I asked.  I was surprised he remembered how to get there and that he had a word for it.  I turned the car around and to the river we went instead.   Once there, I knew that Logan had the better plan.

The Eno is considered to be a �slow� river as it passes over some fairly flat land.  It meanders more than it rages, making it the perfect place to find some quiet - unless, of course, you are visiting with a toddler.  For Logan, there was too much to discover to be quiet as we spent the next couple of hours feasting on nature with all of our senses.   

I watched Logan methodically tossing rock after rock into the water.  Splash.  Kirplop.  He squatted in the water trying to catch small fish. He groped around on the dried area of the riverbed, unsuccessfully grasping at tiny toads as they hopped out of reach � his chubby little fist closing just a little too late.  Without hesitation, we wandered into the water, giggling as the water trickled over his feet.

I stood next to him, feeling the water running over my own shoes and wishing I had the camera.  I wanted to document the dappled light dancing on the blue-green moss.  I wanted to catch the sunlight highlighting each movement of the water.  I wished for a way to record the music of the water lazily trickling over the rocks.  I wondered how I could save the scents of the dirt, the mossy rocks and the decomposing plants in the water.  Instead, I could only savor the moment right then � making time stop and freezing it forever even if only in my mind.  I took a breath.  I took it all in, letting it feed my soul.

I am always pleasantly surprised to come to the river and find myself feeling this way � at peace.  To find myself simply being in the moment with my son rather than worrying about all those daily life distractions was a much-needed gift.  It was a gift given by a perfect summer day and the toddler who knew a better way to enjoy it.

"An Impromptu Trip to the River" is an original post for Triangle Mamas.  When Susie is not enjoying the river with her three sons, she keeps a personal blog titled At Home With Me.