How to Really Camp in the Rain {31 Days: Day 9}

October 9, 2013September 30, 2015 Lindsey P. BrackettLeave a comment

Pictures circa 2009 when we were still a family of just four. This is an old post from my Facebook Notes (remember those?) and back when this blog was barely getting twelve hits. Hoping for more than that today 🙂

Well, we weren’t singing in the rain, that’s for sure.

We’d been planning a fall break camping trip for weeks and the plan was to get some chores done at home over the weekend and wait to begin our trip until Monday. That way we could camp on Monday and Tuesday, play in the mountains, visit the pumpkin patch, do some hiking, roast some marshmallows….it was going to be fun. Just the four of us communing with nature (and every public toilet and latrine around since preschoolers and pregnant women have no concept of “hold it”).

On Sunday, after a consultation with weather.com (really, how did people plan before?), Joshua made the suggestion that we head on out since the weather was so nice, but rain was moving in tomorrow. Didn’t look too bad. We figured if we set up in the dry, we could weather the drizzle.

Except a drizzle wasn’t the forecast.

Camp was set up, all was good at Andrew’s Cove, just north of Helen, a picturesque USFS campground with a rushing creek, awful push-pedal potties, and plenty of sites to choose from because apparently others were wiser than we. We trekked over the mountain to Hiawassee for firewood and a forgotten can opener, decided to treat ourselves to The Deer Lodge since the hamburger meat was still frozen in the cooler, and then spent the evening roasting marshmallows, drinking hot chocolate, and listening to James Taylor, thanks to the only other brave souls in the campground. We all went to bed by ten, the girls actually went to sleep (I read them the only book I brought, Anne of Windy Poplars), and we rested pretty well on our new air bed, only waking once to venture outside for reasons I have mentioned before.

Then, 6 a.m. came. At first it was a pitter-patter. Kind of pleasant. Then a steady sprinkle. Not too concerned. By seven, it was a deluge and no longer were we high and dry. The tent had begun to leak. The girls had woken up antsy for pop-tarts. And I couldn’t figure out how to cook canned biscuits on a camp stove.

We gave it up. Ran for the van and came home. By 8:30 we were having hot showers and the coffee was perking in our own cozy kitchen. Ahh…now this is a vacation.

Except that it’s now 5:57 in the evening and Joshua has had to go back and break camp in the rain. Oh, well.

For all my posts in this 31 Days series on Living Local click here.

Come back the rest of the week for links to our favorite North Georgia (and a little further but maybe local to you) camping spots and a post on the 10 Things you shouldn’t miss if you’re ever in a certain Alpine Village that’s up this way.

Summer Squash Quiche

October 3, 2013September 30, 2015 Lindsey P. BrackettLeave a comment

Summer Squash Quiche (adapted from Simply in Season Crustless Zucchini Tomato Quiche)

2 cups zucchini and yellow squash (diced)
1 cup tomatoes (diced, or sometimes I slice cherry tomatoes in half)
1/2 cup onion (diced)
1/2 cup mozzerella cheese (shredded)

Place in greased casserole dish or 10-inch pie dish. (I use a casserole dish that is slightly smaller than a standard 9×12.)

1 1/2 cups milk
3/4 cup Baking Mix (Bisquick or make your own)
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 tsp pepper
3 eggs

Put ingredients in blender and process until smooth, about 15 seconds. Pour over vegetables. Bake at 400 degrees 30-40 minutes, until knife inserted in center comes out clean. (If you have a lot of tomatoes with extra juice, it will take longer to set. Tent with foil if top is browning too much.)

Variations: Substitute broccoli, spinach, or kale.

We like it with homemade biscuits and salad.

family · Friends · http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post · linkups · summer

Freedom Walking and Hot Air Balloons {Behind the Scenes}

September 10, 2013September 30, 2015 Lindsey P. BrackettLeave a comment

Hot air balloons and I seem to enjoy a last minute relationship. Maybe it’s because in and of themselves the balloons seem to evoke a sense of spontaneity that is often absent from my planned and scheduled attempts at motherhood, or maybe it’s just simply because if I ponder a decision involving gas money, restaurants, and extra cash for too long, I talk myself out of it.

I’m so glad I didn’t back out of this one.

Callaway Gardens was hosting a weekend of balloon themed festivities and admission was half-price if you arrived before 9 a.m. So on Friday evening, we put on hold everything that was wringing our life out and gave ourselves over to children and friends and sunshine.

We slept over at with our friends Brooke and Matt, who are are the kind of friends who don’t mind when you call at bedtime on Thursday night to say you’ll be there tomorrow. They’re the kind of friends who are totally on board with waking up six kids at daylight to see a spectacle of color against a misty morning sky.

The downed balloon beachside was called “Freedom Walk” and inside children squealed and floundered on the grass with beach balls. The air was close and humid, but the vision was breathtaking, a kaleidoscope of colors that burned brightly as the morning sun rose higher.

We picnicked and swam and for the first time all summer, my children could play with their daddy. He’s made a near full recovery. It’s amazing how quickly we can forget what really matters. I’d been drowning in a sea of hopelessness and I’d forgotten that for a time before this summer began, I had realized just how precious life can be.

After Amelia and I rode that hot air balloon in June, I realized it was the fire that lifts those balloons into the air to catch a breath of wind and fly away.

And as much as I’d like to believe it so, that’s never a spontaneous act. It’s carefully planned and considered and just the right amount of fuel is used to carry that brightness into the sky.

So the same for us: these fires that seem so insurmountable in life?
If we let Him, a great and merciful God can use that fire to carry us to a far better place.

Joining with Crystal Stine and an amazing community of women this week who dare to bare the soul behind the pictures. Tell me, what’s behind your scene?

cooking · http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post · linkups · perfectly imperfect

Behind the Scenes with Blackberry Jam

July 23, 2013September 30, 2015 Lindsey P. Brackett5 Comments

yeah, so don’t let those pretty little jars fool you.

I did indeed make homemade blackberry jam yesterday. A labor of love for my husband. Seedless and old-fashioned canned and everything.

I also nearly burned the house down and have a blister the size of a dime on the base of my thumb to prove it. Because when you use a pot that is too small for 4 cups of prepared blackberries and 8 cups of sugar and one box of pectin AND a 1/4 of lemon juice and then you bring it to a “gentle rolling boil”, well, let’s just say it doesn’t stay gentle for long.

That pot of jam boiled all over my stove top and my hardwood floor and my kitchen cabinets. It scorched dishtowels and the innocent simmering green beans and my thumb when I tried to stop the bursting black mess on the burner by swiping at it with a sopping towel. (i know, i know, not my smartest move.) Finally a big cup of water and the box of baking soda kept that mess in check. In the meantime, the smoke alarm was going off (nice to know it works!) and my seven year old was hiding on the porch with the little ones.

Not my finest Pinterest moment.

But as I camped out by the sink with my hand under cold water and surveyed the damage, I managed a little survey of myself also. You see, I’m impulsive with recipes and directions. I don’t always read from beginning to end and I’m notorious (at least to my husband) for substituting ingredients because I didn’t check before I started to make sure I had what I need.

And in the case of the jam, I had an inkling (okay, a warning) that this would happen. You see, I had to bring the fruit and pectin to boil before I added the sugar. Which I did. And I noticed then that the pot wasn’t quite big enough. But I forged ahead because who wants two pots to wash when I can make do with one?

Or rather, who wants to wash two pots instead of the floor, the counter, the sink, the dishtowels, and the stove top?

I don’t think my stove will ever be the same. But then again, I might not either. I think I’ve learned a lesson the big-burning-blister hard way:

sometimes it’s better to slow down and actually follow directions if you don’t want to end up with a sticky mess.

And yes, I finished making that stupid jam. It might not set correctly. I think I false sealed a few lids. Oh, well. I’ll just make a batch of biscuits and it will all be gone in a week anyway.

Linking up with Crystal for the first time today!

http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008/kind#post · madelynne · motherhood · summer

What I Saw at Camp Pinnacle

June 24, 2013September 30, 2015 Lindsey P. Brackett1 Comment

We arrived at Camp Pinnacle on Friday after the “Colossal Coaster” ride of Vacation Bible School and after not a few meltdowns from this mama and those girls. We were tired and I honestly didn’t believe I had the energy for a mother/daughter overnight camp. Check-in complete, bags in the cabin (pretty nice lodging actually), chicken nugget supper (a cafeteria classic), and slowly I was starting to unwind a bit. Slowly, I was starting to enjoy actually seeing my daughters.

I read this post the other day about how women fear becoming invisible. It only makes sense to believe our daughters fear this too. Until this weekend, I hadn’t realized how little time I actually spend seeing them, and how many moments I miss because I’m not tuned into their little moments. I saw Annabelle grin delightfully and Madelynne watch me intently. I saw the spark of joy that comes when they’re discovering a new talent, realized how much they want me to focused on them as individuals and not just as the first and second sisters.

This weekend gave me an opportunity to do something I hardly ever do: play with my kids. After a brief and fun introduction to worship, we all gathered on the lawn for Color Wars, those notorious camp relay games and my girls were so proud that their mommy was competing with them. They were astounded to learn I could jump rope and super proud when I hopped to the cone with a ball between my knees.

After games, we went on a mission walk with our counselors and learned a little about the camp’s mission focus this summer, which is the city of Atlanta. Madelynne volunteered to pray and Annabelle drew a picture of her cross necklace and wrote “God Loves You” and snuck a peek at me to see if I had noticed. She’s finally started talking faith with us, and this week between VBS and camp, was the first time I can remember seeing her participate wholeheartedly as though the songs and messages meant more than she knows how to confess.

There was a classic camp bonfire with s’mores and songs and silliness and my girls tried to catch lightening bugs and were giddy that the time was well past bedtime. We slept in bunks that rustled all night once the cabin of giggly girls settled down and were up again early for breakfast and quiet times to talk about putting on the armor of God.

My best mom moment came when they observed I had put on my bathing suit: “Mama, you’re getting in the pool with us? Really??” I never swim with them. I always watch from the sidelines, usually with the baby, on the very edges of their excitement. But Saturday morning I shivered in the cool blue water and played Marco Polo and beat Madelynne in a swim race and cuddled with Annabelle when we were both covered in chillbumps.

On Saturday morning, I got to guide my daughter’s hands around a pottery wheel and learn from the other how to fire an arrow from a bow. I got to sit in a swing by the lake and worship in a chapel filled with women of all ages. I got to give thanks to God for giving me daughters and beg for mercy and guidance to raise them.

Thank goodness there was a place this weekend that helped me see them.