Watercolor Wednesday: Morning Bugle Hello! I can’t wait to share my newest painting, Morning Bugle, with you on this Watercolor Wednesday, but I owe you a quick explanation about where I’ve been: Where Have I Been? It’s been a minute since I’ve shared anything here on Unbound Roots, and I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat down in the past couple years with the best of intentions to connect, but I wasn’t ready. The past four years have been A LOT! The COVID-19 pandemic, dealing with long COVID symptoms, a terminal diagnosis for my father, the death of my uncle, selling of our house, building a new home, the death of my dear father, a breast cancer diagnosis for my mother just two months after my father’s death, my mother moving in with us after falling very ill from her immunotherapy, the death of my grandfather (my mother’s father) when my mother was at her sickest, my mother moving back home after seven months (I still miss her daily presence in our home), and healing as we get back to our new normal. Life trials can be tough, and it’s amazing how they can zap any of the creative juices. Writing, painting, woodworking. Nothing felt right in the past four years. Instead, I was focusing on one-day-at-a-time and one-foot-in-front-of-the-other. Sleep (not easy), exercise, helping my children with their homeschool work, visiting with my dad before he passed, being there for my mother, seeing loved ones, preparing healthy meals, keeping a clean house, and working on the final touches on our new home were the only activities my brain had room for. All I can say is THANK GOD for the support of my husband and children, exercise, and daily devotions. These three things kept me somewhat sane over the past few years. It wasn’t until this past September when something began to change within me. On the Road to Recovery Two months after my mother moved back home, my little family of four took off on a long road trip through Montana, Wyoming, and Colorado in early September, 2025. I could go on forever about our trip, but I’ll keep it short. Mountain hiking, hot spring swimming, horseback riding, fly-fishing, rock-hunting, and wildlife viewing renewed something in me. I was able to focus on the present while we experienced new and wonderful things. I remember being home for a couple of weeks after our road trip and saying to my husband, Jake, “I feel happy and content. It’s been so long since I’ve felt this way.” Grief is a fickle thing. No one can tell you exactly how you’ll feel, when you’ll fall, when you’ll start to pick yourself up again, or what your new normal will look like. There is a general grief process (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance), but nobody can prepare oneself for how this process will feel. I know my grief started the moment my father gave me his heartbreaking diagnosis of pulmonary fibrosis in early 2020. It was the same awful disease that had invaded his father and both of his brothers. We all knew what his outcome would be. The trials that came after that diagnosis in the next four years just compounded what I was already trying to process. It was ROUGH! In September, the fog of these trials began to lift. Painting, writing, and woodworking – I was starting to feel the pull again, and it felt SO GOOD! I was finally in a place where I could let joy back into my life. So, here we are! I’m ready to share my words and paintings with you all again. Morning Bugle “Morning Bugle” is the first painting I’ve wanted to complete in years. Yes, I’ve finished a few other paintings for myself and others, but this was the first painting I was looking forward to – the first painting I’ve felt inspired to paint in years. This painting was born from an experience in Rocky Mountain National Park in Colorado. Rocky Mountain National Park Thirty-seven degrees at 4:30 a.m. in Rocky Mountain National Park, my friend Jen had us up early trying to glimpse the ever-elusive moose. Jen is known as a moose whisperer, and the impressively large mammals seem to flock to her. I have never been lucky enough to see a moose in the wild, but I hoped to change that. We pulled into a parking lot next to a large mountain meadow. I knew we must be in a good observation area as wildlife photographers lined the parking lot with their huge, fancy lenses on tripods waiting for the first light of dawn to break. Promptly, we heard an eerie, high-pitched trumpet sound followed by a series of grunts. Sending chills down my spine, the bull elk’s morning bugle was emblematic of the wild, untouched landscape we were immersed in. When dawn began to break, dark silhouettes of the elk herd began to emerge. Their presence was special to our whole family, but I’ll never forget the beauty of hearing that morning bugle. The bugle that inspired my first enjoyable painting in years. The bugle that signified that healing had arrived. I introduce you to Morning Bugle – a painting that portrays my vision of what the bull elk must have looked like as he bugled in the wooded mountains of Rocky Mountain National Park on an early, chilly morning in September. Experiences Shortly after the morning bugle brought the sun up, two bull moose put on a show that had us all breathless. Powerful sparring between a younger, smaller bull moose, and a larger, older bull moose kept us captivated. Jen, our moose whisperer, was as enthralled as we were. After the sparring, the two moose sauntered up near where we were parked giving us all an up-close experience with the amazing animals. As Christmas and the new year knock on our door, I wish you and your loved ones a year full of grand
Get Outside
Watercolor Wednesday: A Pair of Indigo Buntings
The past month has been a whirlwind of crazy! My family has been out-of-town twice, my mom and dad hosted a huge family reunion of over 150 people that we had been preparing for for over a year, the kids and I attended the last of my husband’s amateur soccer games for the 2018 season (his team has been promoted to division one for the 2019 season – woohoo!), and I’ve been working with a great group of soccer parents to organize a recreational soccer league for kids in our community (you can read about the problems we’ve been facing here, here, and here). This Watercolor Wednesday post is not being posted on the first Wednesday of the month, nor is it being posted on a Wednesday at all due to all that has been happening, but I wanted to get caught up. So, without further ado, I present to you: A Pair of Indigo Buntings. My family and I spent a week up at the family cabin last month, and on one particularly rainy day, the kids and I decided to get out our paints. As I sat gazing out of the large lakeside windows, I remembered seeing an indigo bunting fly into the very windows I was peering out of just a few years ago. At the time, I ran out onto the deck and looked over the railing to see an immature male indigo bunting sitting stunned in the shrubs. His bright blue feathers were just beginning to show through. He sat in the shrub for about 10 minutes before flying into the woods, allowing me to take a few photos of him. What a treat it was to sit and observe this skittish species from just a few feet away. Remembering this event led to the painting of A Pair of Indigo Buntings – a bright blue male with a soft brown female on a birch tree. Do you have any memorable bird experiences? I’d love for you to share them in the comments below. Thanks so much for stopping by to read today!
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More Than Just A Chicken: The Impending Death of Our Friend
Nestled in a thick layer of straw in the corner of the chicken run you’ll find a chicken with bright gold feathers lying still; unnaturally still. If you look close enough you can see her densely feathered back rise and fall as she takes her steady breaths. She opens her eyes, but only wide enough to catch a tiny glimpse of me before they close again. It’s been three days since she has had anything to eat and drink. My heart hurts, and the waiting is difficult. Goldie is her name. My family names all of our chickens after flowers, and Goldie was named after the summer to fall-blooming perennial, goldenrod or Solidago. The bright yellow flowers on the goldenrod plant provide large amounts of nectar and pollen for butterflies, bees, and other insects. It’s a happy plant, so we felt it would be the perfect name for one of our friendliest chickens. Goldie brings us happiness. As Goldie grew, we found that her name was perfect in more ways than one: never leaving my side as I worked in my perennial gardens, following me up and down the rows cleaning the worms up behind me as I tilled up a new garden area (with all the other chickens running terrified from the loud machine). I’ll never forget watching Goldie run as fast as she could – half running and half flying – as soon as I carried a shovel into her view. When I proceeded to dig, Goldie would jump on top of the mound of dirt that had not yet left the shovel and scratch at the pile for any traces of insects or worms. I’m still convinced that she thought she was doing the digging. I’m going to miss the comfort of my constant companion out in the gardens. Goldie started laying shell-less eggs this past year. Her eggs contained the inner egg contents (white and yolk), and an outer membrane – no shell. Why? We are not sure. The layer feed we provide our chickens contains 4% calcium, which is the recommended amount of calcium for strong egg shells. We also provide free-choice oyster shells, so the hens who need more calcium can add it to their diets. Unfortunately, this hasn’t helped Goldie. Two months ago, Goldie became ill after one of her shell-less eggs broke open in the oviduct. The issue was apparent from the color of her feces (the bright orange-yellow of a free-range chicken egg yolk). Goldie was quiet for two weeks, unable to fly up to her usual perch, and chose to lounge underneath the deck during the day. Little-by-little, she improved. This surprised our family, as we read that most chickens who have an egg break inside of them come down with a deadly infection within hours – not Goldie. Goldie was back in the gardens in two weeks. My family came home from vacation almost two weeks ago to find Goldie sick again with that same orange-yellow yolk leaking from her vent. Goldie returned to her coop-floor sleeping corner, she rarely left the underside of the deck during the day, and her comb seemed to droop a little lower. I knew something was really wrong about a week ago when I brought some of Goldie’s favorite kitchen scraps to feed the chickens, and she ran out to inspect them, but she wouldn’t eat them. Goldie parked herself in the corner of the chicken run where she was sheltered from predators and weather four days ago, and this is where she remains. This time, the egg that broke internally was too much for her. Goldie rarely opens her eyes now, her breathing seems more laborious, and her left foot sits just outside her warm umbrella of feathers in the same position it was last night. More than anything, I want to pick Goldie up and cuddle her to give her some comfort. Though, I know this would bring me more comfort than her. The chickens love to be around us, but like to stay on their own two feet; especially Goldie. So, I resist. Instead, my family and I continue to check on her every hour or two, talk to her in soft voices, and give her gentle pets on her back every once-in-awhile. This evening the clouds finally broke after several days of showers and thunderstorms, so I went out to weed the garden. As I walked into the backyard I saw the kids holding some twine and sticks. “What are you two up to?” I asked them. “We are making Goldie a cross to put on her grave.” they replied. I smiled and said “That is so thoughtful of you. Thank you.” But, what I wanted to do was cry. I proceeded to weed the garden without Goldie by my side for the next hour and a half. I miss her already, but the garden is ready for her. When Goldie passes, she will be buried in the garden among the fragrant monarda, purple coneflowers, spikes of Russian sage, large hibiscus blooms, and yellow roses. Hummingbirds will visit her, bees will provide a constant buzz from dawn ’til dusk, monarchs and swallowtails will flutter in and around the flowers, and I’ll continue to weed the garden with her by my side. My son walked up to me today and said “Mom, it’s hard. I don’t want Goldie to die because I love having her as a pet, but I don’t want her to suffer anymore.” The death of a pet is difficult. Goldie has been much more than just a chicken, she has been a wonderful pet, friend, and gardening companion. We miss her already.
Watercolor Wednesday: Quick and Easy Greeting Cards
I’m posting my Watercolor Wednesday article a day early due to a busy week filled with Independence Day activities. I hope you enjoy! My grandfather’s cousin (I’ll call M) has always been an important part of our family. She has hosted family Christmas’, she attends all family birthday parties, and joins our family for many other gatherings. M is like another grandmother to me – how lucky I am. For years, M has hand-painted watercolor cards for me, my children, and many others – all have been saved and treasured. In fact, my son’s most recent card from M sits proudly on his dresser as I write this post- he loves the owls. Knowing how much my family appreciates M’s hand-painted cards, I thought I would try a few watercolor greeting cards of my own. Plus, what a great way to try new painting techniques. I referenced the good ol’ internet for quick and easy watercolor tutorials, and was drawn to a fun and sweet chickadee video demonstration by Wplus9 Design. Here is the finished product – a Father’s Day card for my dad: The video tutorial is a speed painting, but the steps are not hard to follow – especially when the user can pause the video to catch up when needed. If you’ve ever wanted to try watercolor painting, this video is perfect for beginners. You can check it out below: I have completed two more cards since I painted the chickadee for my dad. The first was a painting of a mallard Imy grandfather – an avid hunter and fisherman. The second is of a comical cardinal I painted today. This male cardinal will be sent as a thank-you card to my friend up in the Boundary Waters in northern Minnesota. She is a lover of wildlife and animals, so I thought this bright cardinal may bring some joy to her day. These greeting cards take, on average, 30-60 minutes, so they can be done in very short order. Even though they are quick paintings, I find them fun and lively – perfect for greeting cards. My greatest joy in my painting journey has been sharing my work with others. The cards I have received from M have made me smile for years. I hope I can continue this tradition, and spread the same joy to others. Do you create handmade items for others, or have others done this for you? I’d love to hear about your experiences in the comment section below. Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you have a wonderful day! ~Erin
When Bird Feathers Rain Down on Me
When bird feathers rain down on me I get excited. Not because the bird feathers are falling on me, but because this is something that never happens. “What in the world is going on?” I wonder. “What am I going to see?”
Rio Grande Valley: From MN to Texas and Back Again
On The Road Again During the arctic winter of 2014, my family decided to pack up and head south. A few weeks ago I shared the first part of our road trip when we explored Port Aransas, Texas. Today we continue our road trip from Minnesota to Texas as we drive south from Port Aransas, TX to the Rio Grande Valley via U.S. Highway 77. Onion fields and chicken farms dotted the sides of highway 77 as we drove south toward the valley. The shadeless and parched terrain offered no respite from the sun as the cattle slowly roamed the open fields. At one point, we passed a group of about 20 men, women, and children on horseback. I wondered where they were headed as we hadn’t seen a town for dozens of miles, and we wouldn’t pass another for about the same. I hoped that they had water for the horses and young children that traveled under the mid-day sun. Within three hours, my family and I reached our new destination – Orange Grove RV Park in Edinburg, TX. Orange Grove RV Park – Edinburg, TX That’s right! We were joining the Snowbirds for the next five days (Snowbirds: North American term for people who migrate from cooler northern climates to warmer southern climates during the winter). I had visited the park a couple of times in years past, as my grandparents overwintered in Orange Grove. The things I remembered most about the park were: the way the orange blossoms perfumed the air throughout the late winter months (the park was built on an old orange grove), how grapefruit hung heavy on the trees, how we played games late into the night, and enjoyed conversations with neighbors that regularly stopped. Nothing much had changed in the park since I had been there last. The orange blossoms still perfumed the air, grapefruit the size of my three-year old daughter’s head still hung heavy on the trees, and neighbors still stopped by to visit. My family also enjoyed the park pool and hot tub, and celebrating Great-Grandpa’s 80th birthday with friends and family in the community room. Orange Grove Park was the perfect place for our young family to relax and enjoy the warm Texas weather – fresh citrus fruit to pick and enjoy, a clean pool to play in, friendly people to chat with, quiet streets to walk in, and plenty of space for games, parties, and other social gatherings. Much of the second portion of our trip was spent in the park, but we did take one day-trip to the Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge – a 2,088-acre refuge. Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge Established in 1943 for the protection of migratory birds, Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge happens to be positioned along an east-west and north-south juncture of two major migratory routes for many species of birds. It is also at the northern-most point for many species whose range extends south into Central and South America. The refuge is right in the middle of all this biological diversity, which is what makes this 2,088 acre parcel the ‘jewel of the National Wildlife Refuge System.’ Though small in size, Santa Ana offers visitors an opportunity to see birds, butterflies and many other species not found anywhere else in the United States beyond deep South Texas. – U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service Throughout the winter of 2014, one of the coldest on record, my parents escaped the icy MN winter to volunteer at the Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge. My father helped to rebuild bridges in the park while my mother traveled to local schools to educate students about monarch butterflies. On the day that we visited Santa Ana, my father was busy building a bridge, but my mother got the day off to show us around the refuge. We had our own tour guide! The first thing that my family noticed was all of the Spanish moss dripping from every tree and vine. The soft, gray moss gave every walking trail a storybook feeling. My son was amazed that the moss didn’t need to grow in the dirt. He was also delighted with the sabal palm trees. My family spent the day in the reserve observing green jays and listening to the loud cackle of the plain chachalaca, exploring the canopy bridge, and discovering new flowers on trees and shrubs. Many of the mammals, birds, and reptiles that would usually be out and active were not due to the unusually cold temperatures that Texas experienced in the winter of 2014 – Minnesota wasn’t the only state. I would love to return to the Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge in the future when temperatures are warmer and wildlife is more active, but the day at the refuge was still full of exploration, new experiences, and exciting flora and fauna. Thank you, Mom, for a great day! Thanks for joining me on the second part of our journey from Minnesota to Texas and back again. This week I will share my favorite tip for long road trips with kids and dogs – you may be surprised.
The Earth Day Lesson: Inspiration Through Kindness
My son has enjoyed picking things up outside since the day he began to walk. He’d fill his arms full of sticks at the family cabin – clearing the grass of debris. My son’s hands, pockets, and stroller cups would be full of pine cones, stones – anything he’d find in his path when we would take our walks. I had to stop him from picking up garbage on a daily basis, as you can imagine. My son grew, and his awareness of litter and trash in the environment grew right along with him. I’d get questions like: “Mom, why is there trash on the street?” or “Mom, why can’t people throw that away in a garbage can?” Combining his love of picking things up with his concern for the environment was only natural. My son is 9-years old now, and he and his 7-year old sister have been celebrating Earth Day by picking up trash along our favorite walking road for four years now. Both of the kids have the day marked on their calendars. This year they had a count-down to Earth Day for two weeks before the day – you’d think it was Christmas. This story isn’t about my children picking up trash on Earth Day, it’s about a lesson they learned this year – I wish you could have seen their faces. Our family headed out on our yearly Earth Day walk at about 5pm. Both kids donned vinyl gloves and carried a tall kitchen garbage bag while my husband and I walked the dogs on their leashes. A race ensued for the first 1/2 mile of our walk – a race to bag the garbage first. Throughout the walk, several people stopped to thank the kids for cleaning up the roadside. “You’re welcome!” my kids would respond. It wasn’t until we were almost back home that a woman and her husband caught up to us as the kids’ garbage bags were slowing them down by then. The lady hurried over to the kids, walked alongside them and said “I just wanted to tell you both that what you are doing is so wonderful – it’s inspirational!” “Thank you!” my son replied. “Thanks!” my daughter chirped in. A big smile spread across the ladies face as she said “Keep doing what you’re doing” and she hurried off to catch up with her husband. Five minutes later, we saw the lady turn around to meet up with us again. “I just wanted to tell you that you both were so inspirational that I’ve decided to pick up trash on my way home.” she said as she stooped down to pick up a crushed cardboard box. “You’ve inspired me!” she said again. My daughter looked up at me with her mouth open in awe, which quickly turned into a smile. My son hobbled up to where I was walking with his extra-heavy, packed garbage bag and exclaimed “Mom, did you hear that? We inspired her to pick up garbage too!” I smiled, and we all yelled out “Thank you for helping!” The kind lady turned back, smiled, and waved with a garbage-filled hand. For the last block-and-a-half of our walk my family discussed how an act of kindness can inspire others to pay-it-forward. My son quickly realized that more trash was picked up that day than he could have picked up himself because he and his sister had inspired someone else. An important lesson was learned on Earth Day, a lesson that my kids will never forget thanks to the kind lady – an act of kindness can inspire others to pay-it-forward. Have you been inspired by an act of kindness? What do you do to make our world a more beautiful place? I’d love to read all about it. Unbound Roots has been nominated for the Hidden Gem award through the annual Bloggers Bash Awards. If you’ve enjoyed this story or others that I have written, would you mind taking a moment to vote? No personal information is collected – all you have to do is click and you’re done. You can vote HERE. Thank you so very much for your support!
Port Aransas, Texas: From Minnesota to Texas and Back Again
I’m happy to report that since my last post, almost all of the snow (18″) that was dumped on us here in Minnesota on April 15th has melted away. Mother Nature gave us what seemed to be an epic ending to our winter weather as spring has finally arrived. The scilla in the garden have bloomed and the daffodils are close behind. Relief! The same feeling we had after we decided to drive south during the cold and snowy winter of 2014. The winter we drove from Minnesota to Texas and back again. We left our house on the morning of February 27th, 2014 when the air was frigid enough to freeze exposed skin in 10 minutes or less… …and arrived at our destination – I.B. Magee Beach Park in Port Aransas, Texas within 36 hours. I.B. Magee Beach Park is located on the northern tip of Mustang Island in Port Aransas. The park consists of 167 acres, and offers 75 modern camping sites that include electric and water, plenty of primitive camping space just feet from the warm Gulf of Mexico waters, extremely clean bathhouses (if you know me, you know I can’t do dirty public bathrooms – I’d rather find a wooded area), fishing, birding, shelling, swimming, and is pet-friendly. We pulled into the park at 10:30 pm – the park was dark and quiet, but we could hear the lapping of the waves on the sand. We couldn’t see a thing on that moonless night; however, I opened the windows and asked the kids “What do you smell?” My 5-year old son replied “Fish!” and my three-year old daughter asked “What is that smell?” as she wrinkled up her nose. “That, my dears, is the smell of the ocean.” I replied as my husband and I started to laugh. I guess maybe it’s an acquired smell. As we pulled up to the park office, friendly staff members were awaiting us in the lobby. We were quickly checked in, given a park map, and guided to our campsite. We tried to be quick and quiet with our set-up as campers surrounded us. Luckily, my parents were our neighbors to the East as they were spending the winter in Texas volunteering at the Santa Ana National Wildlife Refuge. So, they took the kids while my husband and I set-up the pop-up camper. Within an hour we were all settled and ready for bed – excited to explore the island in the morning. When we awoke the next morning, we found that my parents had gone into town and bought a variety of bakery treats to greet us with. Eating outside in the sunshine with green grass beneath our feet was a gift. Bakery goods were a regular treat that our family shared up at the family cabin on summer weekends for decades, so my parents thought they’d bring that special tradition to us on the first morning of our trip. Immediately after the kids finished their doughnuts, they made a bee-line for the ocean – through the campsites, over the bunkers, and out to the sand they ran. They couldn’t wait to see this large body of water we had discussed before our trip – the thing that incensed the air with the smell of fish. Ha! The Beach I.B. Magee beach was expansive, offering a lot of play room for our family. Picnic tables lined the backside of the beach, and a fishing pier could be seen on the north side of the park. The sand was soft and clean with very little seaweed littering the ground, and the ocean waters were warmer than expected in the middle of winter. Our first morning on the beach was quite cool and windy, but it didn’t stop my daughter from making sand angels (which turned out to be much different than the snow angels she was used to making at home) in the soft sand that was warmed by the sun, and turning our dog, Brook, into a sand pup. My son was most excited to try out his new metal detector on the wide beaches. He found fish hooks, tent stakes, old cans, and a few treasures – coins that had been eroded by years of salty water and sand washing over them The next few days were warmer, so the kids braved the ocean waters, and even gave it a little taste. As you can imagine, we got a laugh out of seeing more wrinkled noses as they figured out just how salty ocean water is. The beaches at I.B. Magee were relatively empty at the end of February. There were a few walkers here and there, a couple of surf fishermen and women in the evenings, but for the most part, we had miles of open beaches to ourselves. This was perfect for treasure hunting, dog walking, shelling, sand castle building, and exploring the wildlife on the beach. Oh, and for my three-year old daughter to pretend that she was hunting the seagulls. At least, I think she was pretending. Port Aransas offers much more than stunning beaches, and we didn’t wait long to continue our explorations. Aransas Pass Ship Channel Two days into our stay we took a walk to the north end of Mustang Island where the Aransas Pass Ship Channel runs. The walk to the channel was full of wildflowers… …fishermen sitting in lounge chairs with their poles in hand, and kids flying kites. Our favorite observations were the brown pelicans flying by… …the massive shrimp boats of different shapes and colors moving at a snail’s pace through the channel… …and the playful dolphins swimming alongside the boats hoping for a shrimpy treat. I bet you’re wondering if we were lucky enough to eat some fresh Gulf shrimp. We sure were! Into Town Downtown Port Aransas is what you would expect to see in a small island town. Businesses and small homes of bright island colors paint the town happy. Funny signs greet
From Minnesota to Texas and Back Again: I Blame the Snow
I’m sitting at my desk staring out of the window as the soft white snowflakes continue to blanket the landscape. My little plot in Minnesota has amassed over 18-inches of snow in the last 24 hours, and there is no sign of it stopping. I usually love snowstorms as there’s a quiet peace about them, but not today (or yesterday, for that matter). It’s April now. Minnesotan’s have already endured a long winter, and we are ready to get outside without requiring snowshoes or having to bundle our kids in 752 layers – think Ralphie’s brother in the movie A Christmas Story. April has been most unusual with multiple snowstorms and cold temperatures (today the temperature is 25F when the average is 60F) this year. The daffodils and tulips should be emerging from the ground, and my husband and I should have our greenhouse up by now (last year it went up in mid-March). Instead, we have two feet of snow on top of the still-frozen ground. My son should be starting his spring soccer practices, but the outdoor fields are obviously not playable, and the indoor dome that my son has been practicing in collapsed last night due to the weight of the snow. This has been an April that we won’t soon forget. In fact, this weather is reminding me of the cold and snowy winter of 2014. The winter of 2014 was paralyzing. Getting outside when the snow piles up and the temperatures are cold enough to freeze the comb off of our rooster (yep, that happened) is hard to do with two small children. I remember feeling trapped as a stay-at-home mother, and the kids had cabin fever too. We needed to get out, so we decided to borrow my parent’s camper and head south – all the way to the southern tip of Texas. We loaded up the camper, made our camping reservations, chose our stopping points on the way down and back, mapped our driving routes, and prepared to head south – except another big snow and ice storm hit. The storm that ravaged our area in mid-February was so bad that the state shut down many of the highways and freeways in Minnesota – something that is virtually unheard of in this hardy state. Ice glazed the roadways, the temperatures were too cold for chemicals to melt the ice, snow piled up, and the wind continued to blow the light snow over roadways making the streets extra dangerous. Consequently, we had to delay our trip by a few days, because who wants to pull a camper on treacherous roads? After snow removal, canceling of a reservation, and waiting out the storm, we departed three days late. We left our home at 5 a.m. with temperatures dipping well-below zero degrees Fahrenheit. In 24 hours we would smell the salty ocean air and feel the relief of southern temperatures. In the next couple of weeks I will share the adventures of our 3,300-mile road trip, and how we managed a fun and fuss-free trip with two young children and a dog. Get ready for first ocean experiences, wildlife adventures, and grapefruit the size of your head! Please join my family and me for a road trip from Minnesota to Texas and back again. In the meantime, I hope the spring returns to Minnesota; otherwise, I’m going to dig out that camper and head south again.
Watercolor Wednesday: Rainbow Trout
Due to my new-found love of watercolor painting, I have decided to devote more blogging posts to my paintings, so on the first Wednesday of every month I will feature a new painting along with the story behind the painting. Without further ado, today I am featuring a painting that my son requested as part of his ninth birthday gift – a rainbow trout.