We could think of no better way to properly break in our new baby than to run him around the track at Watkins Glen International!
One might call it a baptism of fire, or at least smoke, as in your brakes are starting to smoke.
This would be quite a test since Watkins Glen is no ordinary oval speedway, no sir, this Grand Prix course has eleven turns, including a full hairpin, so the brakes, tires, and our nerves would all be getting a good work out.
We weren’t sure that a motorhome, no matter how small, would be allowed on the racecourse, but our friends at the Corning and Southern Finger Lakes Visitors Bureau loved the idea and set everything up for us.
Actually, we aren’t that special, anybody can drive their car around the famed track as a part of their Drive The Glen program.
Admittedly, most people aren’t foolhardy enough to do it in an RV.
Even under the controlled conditions, following the pace car at non-Formula One speeds, it became abundantly clear after the first set of curves that this was no place for a top-heavy camper van.
David may have come in dead last, but felt the need for a victory lap anyway!
But our rig was a trooper, and managed the raceway without rolling over.
Many of his contents did not fare as well; there may be no better way to empty the cupboards of a rolling house than to take a series of eleven sharp turns at top speed.
Flying debris aside, we figure that since he took the checkered flag with flying colors (even if it was in dead last), he should be ready for just about anything we might throw at him in the future.
Every once in a great while we receive comments like this:
Please don’t refer to your children as “spawn”. It sounds so disrespectful…
AND
You refer to your daughter as “Piglet”… How would you like being referred to as “piglet’ or “spawn”?” Have you ever asked her?
I’ve wanted to respond for a while now, but it didn’t feel right before I got my hands on the hilarious evidence behind our nicknaming… CONTINUE READING >>
The Spawn in their younger days.
I’ve been wanting to write a post about this subject for some time, because every once in a great while we receive comments on our site like this:
Please don’t refer to your children as “spawn”. It sounds so disrespectful, even though I know you don’t mean it that way. They either have names, or they are your kids or your children, but not spawn.
And this:
I am annoyed every time you refer to your children as “spawn”, the definition of which is: “the product or offspring of a person or place (used to express distaste or disgust)”… You also refer to your daughter as “Piglet”… I wonder how your daughter feels about being referred to as “piglet” now, and named as such for all the world to see (as well as her friends) on your public site. Have you ever asked her? How would you like being referred to as “piglet’ or “spawn”?
The Piglet, Decibel, and The Boy starring in one of many stage shows – aren’t they the CUTEST?
Not wanting to upset or annoy folks, I’ve felt the need to clear the air, but it didn’t feel right before I got my hands on the hilarious evidence behind our nicknaming.
As anyone who has ever stuffed a keepsake, momento, or child’s ex-refridgerator-gracing paper into a box (or sixteen) for safekeeping knows, retrieving said items can be difficult.
Traveling full-time can take this task from difficult to nearly impossible.
But recently we invaded our storage unit and made a beeline for the beat-up plastic bin labeled “Mommy Treasures.” The very box that held the documentation needed for this post.
Why we call them The Spawn
Back when The Piglet returned to the nest for her first college summer, the kids gave me a beautiful bracelet and a cake for my birthday.
Along with this note (it’s wrinkled because someone threw it away while cleaning up after the celebration, but I loved it so much that I dumpster dived to retrieve it).
I knew it was The Piglet who wrote it — mainly because it mentions food.
Oh, and I know her handwriting.
The kids were so tickled by my love for the note — and the fact that I so obviously loved it more than the bracelet or the cake — that they began calling themselves The Spawn.
Who are we to argue?
Since a definition was brought up…
Merriam Webster says spawn means: : to cause (something) to develop or begin
: to produce or create (something) : to produce young especially in large numbers
— and some stuff about fish and mushrooms.
Knowing The Piglet’s sense of humor, she was probably referring to the fish and mushroom stuff.
It took me quite a bit of time to find the exact definition provided by the commenter above (I finally realized it would be best to Google the exact phrase – duh).
I found it in the Oxford Dictionary of Difficult Words (buried in amongst entries about fish and mushrooms) – at books.Google.com. Unless the commenter owns the aforementioned tome, I’m thinking he had to dig fairly deep to make his point.
So – thanks for noticing?
Their nicknames
Early on we decided that for our site — and the book that spawned from it — we wouldn’t be using our adult kids’ real names, so we used their childhood nicknames instead. We are extremely protective of The Spawn’s privacy, and ask for their approval before we post anything that we think may tread on iffy territory.
The Piglet: We’ve always called her that. It might have started as a Winnie the Pooh thing, but I do know that from day one, she was a big eater.
She was a ballet dancer throughout her school years and we would have to double what would be considered a regular family dinner – just so we’d all have enough to eat.
To top it off, she’s one of those enviable people who eat and eat (and eat) and never gains a pound.
She’s fully outed herself as our daughter, has written for our site (see examples here and here), leaves comments as The Piglet, and still refers to herself as such in family situations… she’s just fine with the moniker.
Not sure why she has a microphone.
Decibel: The girl is loud. When she sings, it’ll blow your hair back. Also, the name is kind of pretty if you strip it of its meaning.
So it stuck.
On a side note, throughout her formative years I often heard from folks about how sweet and shy she was.
I could never quite drill it into people’s heads that she was, in fact, the loudest person on the planet.
Then they got to know her better. And their hair blew back.
The Boy’s first plane – he made it out of plywood.
The Boy: You’d think that it was because he was, well, the boy – but you’d be wrong.
His first flight instructor, a gruff Texas native, never, ever, referred to him as anything but The Boy.
I was suspicious that this was because he couldn’t remember The Boy’s name, but by the time The Boy was in high school, they were together so much that I knew that couldn’t be the case.
We gave up and started calling him The Boy too.
Do The Spawn Mind?
Decide for yourself (we received this e-mail as I was writing this):
“In celebration of mom popping us out and thus being able to celebrate Mother’s Day, we would like to invite you to a sunny, deck BBQ brunch at Decibel’s house.
We will take care of the menu – you can assume the grill will be fired up. -The Female Spawn”
YOUR TURN: Does our usage of The Spawn annoy you? Isn’t that note the best birthday present ever? Don’t forget to share your sweet/funny/weird family nicknames with us!
Spoiler Alert! For fans of The Walking Dead, a key event in the season five finale is revealed below. Don’t be mad at us if you keep reading, you’ve been warned.
When Jenny, our editor extraordinaire at Skyhorse Publishing, called to say that our book, Going Gypsy, was going to be an audiobook, we were excited, but had almost no idea what that meant.
We had never listened to an audio book before – at least not since they were called books on tape.
We envisioned Alistair Cooke, by a fire place with his smoking jacket and pipe, earnestly orating the words of our quirky story to the world.
The thought made us all tingly inside.
After the initial excitement passed and our heads unswelled a bit, we became concerned that Alistair might come off as a little stuffy.
As hilarious as it would sound to us to hear Mr. Cooke relate how David superglued himself to the ceiling of our RV, or how Veronica locked herself inside an Italian hotel room, we felt a different direction was needed.
Then it hit us: What if Going Gypsy was read in both male and female voices, representing the way we pass the chapters back and forth between us?
Jenny loved the idea, but in the end, that decision would be left up to Audible.
After tossing in our two cents, we excitedly waited to hear Audible’s answer. It didn’t take long before we heard that they were on board with the idea of having two actors involved in the reading of Going Gypsy, and had the performers contact us for any helpful tips we might be able to provide.
Of course, the minute we found out the names of the actors who would be portraying us were, we got to Googling.
Veronica’s parts are read by Carolyn Cook (as far as we know, not related to Allistair), an award-winning veteran of theater and radio who is fairly new to the field of audio books.
Even though she recorded her first book a mere two years ago, she feels that reading is a perfect fit, as she mentioned in a 2014 interview for Listen Up’s Narrator Spotlight:
“I spent many years acting on stage and then coming home to read bedtime stories to my daughter. I was thrilled when I got the chance to begin working as an audiobook narrator, because it seemed like a natural extension of my life as an actor and a mom. Best of all, my daughter has started narrating audiobooks herself, so I guess all those bedtime stories paid off!”
David’s voice was a big shocker. The resume of Steve Coulter includes appearances in The Hunger Games, Anchorman 2: The Legend of Ron Burgundy, What to Expect When You’re Expecting, The Odd Life of Timothy Green, and Flight. Steve also has a regular role in the Cinemax/HBO series Banshee as Elijah Bowman.
And that’s not all kids – we found out that he was currently starring as Reg Monroe AMC’s The Walking Dead.
Veronica was giddy with the thought of seeing her darling husband being attacked by zombies – or even better – becoming a zombie!
Could life BE any sweeter?
So we set about our first binge watching experience by consuming the first four seasons of apocalyptic goodness in less than a week hoping to see “David” go down in a blaze of flesh-eating glory.
Personally, we’d want to keep our wits about us when zombies are afoot!
It was not to be though, since Coulter’s character, Reg, didn’t appear until the fifth season.
But, as if they knew we were waiting, AMC came to the rescue with an all-day Walking Dead marathon on leading up to the season five finale.
And there it was… the voice that we had come to associate with David, and it was more spectacular than we could have ever hoped!
It wasn’t until the VERY END, the cliffhanger of the entire season, that Veronica’s dream came true. “David” dies in a very dramatic fashion, then BOOM, fade to black.
It was AWESOME.
“If only I had not enjoyed that last highball!”
When asked by theAtlanta Journal-Constitution, Steve “David” Coulter admitted that he wasn’t thrilled when he learned that he was being killed off, but the show’s producers assured him that it was a really cool death scene in the final moments of the episode.
We can attest to the producer’s statements, and Steve must have agreed too, because after shooting the show his reaction was, “It was fun.”
It certainly was fun for us to hear his talents applied to our writing, and we promise that he survives all the way to the end of the Going Gypsy.
We could not be happier about the job that Carolyn and Steve did with our book. It is everything we could have dreamed of and more. The passion, humor, and fun all played out beautifully – and they even “do the voices.” It truly is an honor to hear our words read by such talent.
We’d like to think that they have opened the door to our ultimate goal of having Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie play us in the movie version. That’s not a long shot, is it?
Our hearts are breaking for the people of the Nepal.
We felt the need to help – and want to share with you what we found in our search of ways to help.
If you would like to join us, here are three suggestions:
Napal Red Cross:
Go to the Nepal Red Cross website. We feel that this is the best way to get financial help where it is most needed, but the site is up and down as of today, so we are listing the info given there:
If interested to donate by Draft / Cheque / Cash / Bank Transfer
Please contact Nepal Red Cross Society, National Headquarter in Tel. 4270650, 4272761. You can also send “A/C payee” Cheque/ Draft in favour of “Nepal Red Cross Society”.
Deposit as per the following bank details :
Account holder: Nepal Red Cross Society, National Headquarters
Bank: Standard Chartered Bank Nepal Ltd
Account no: 17-0003794-01
Swift code: SCBLNPKA
Help by providing supplies to Nepal hospitals in need through Operation USA. Text AID to 50555 to donate $10.
Text REDCROSS to 90999 to give $10 to American Red Cross Disaster Relief, which helps people affected by disasters such as hurricanes, floods, earthquakes, wildfires and tornadoes.
Via Facebook:
Facebook is matching every dollar donated through their site, up to two million dollars. Donations will be used to send International Medical Corps’ emergency response teams who are operating mobile medical units to deliver critically needed medical care and medicines to the regions hardest-hit by the earthquake.
Who in their right mind plans a trip above the Arctic Circle in December?
Our answer? Who ever said we were in our right minds?
Chase us around Bodo, Norway as we visit the whirlpools of the Saltstraumen, marvel at midnight blue skies, and dance under the northern lights… CONTINUE READING >>
Who in their right mind plans a trip above the Arctic Circle in December?
Our answer? Who ever said we were in our right minds?
So we found ourselves in Bodø, a Norwegian city whose name we struggled to pronounce until we arrived and heard the residents saying it. It sounds a lot like “Buddha,” yet somehow we could tell that they were not referring to an Eastern mystic.
It was an easy walk from the train to our hotel, which was hard to miss since the Scandic Havet is the tallest building in town.
While we were walking, David mentioned how great it would be if we were high up and facing the ocean.
He must be the mystic, because that’s right where our room was.
Pulling out all the stops
We didn’t waste any time, or what little daylight there is way up north in the winter, getting out to see some of the city’s landmarks, beginning with the Bodø Kathedral.
The cathedral, like almost everything in Bodø, was built after World War II because nearly the entire town was destroyed in a German bombing raid in 1940.
The church has a classic style, with an eye-catching free standing bell tower, but the most fascinating part of our tour was a demonstration of the remarkable pipe organ.
Organist Brian Hepworth took us up to the loft and explained the inner workings of this incredible instrument.
He began by showing us the different tones and qualities of the various types and sizes of the thousands of pipes.
Then, like icing on the cake, he gave us a bit of a private concert.
We could feel the movement underneath us when he pulled out the various stops that control which pipes are sounding.
Then he pulled out all of the stops (yup, that’s where that old saying comes from) and we really felt the power.
We know that the word is wildly overused, but awesome is about the only way to describe it.
The importance of aviation in Norway
Perhaps the town’s most recognizable building is the Luftfarstmuseet, which is the Norwegian Aviation Museum and is cleverly designed in the shape of a giant propeller.
One blade houses historic displays of civilian aviation, and the other showcases military flight. In the middle there is a control tower overlooking the active Bodø airport.
We started in the tower and watched (yes, we sat at the console and pretended to assist) a couple of Scandinavian Airlines jets come in to land.
As with many remote outposts like Bodø, aviation played a big role in recent history, because flying makes the far corners of the globe so much more accessible. Although, we must say that we enjoyed arriving by rail.
For many years sea planes were the usual aircraft throughout Norway, until landing strips began appearing around the time of World War II. The museum features a large collection of these classic aquatic planes.
Most are of the pontoon variety, with floats in place of landing gear, but there are a couple of the old “flying boats” as well. These are designed just as the name implies, like a boat with wings over the top.
The military side has several Nazi-era German warplanes that crashed in the nearby mountains on display.
There is also a beautifully preserved Supermarine Spitfire, which is often mentioned as one of the best fighters the Allies had.
The Norwegian Air Corps flew several of these while operating out of Great Britain while Norway was occupied.
After our history lesson we walked across the street to the Bodø Spectrum, a huge indoor waterpark and swimming complex which includes the Spectrum Spa. No way were we passing up the chance for some sauna action in the arctic.
So we steamed and basked under a sunlamp for a while, then soaked in the outdoor hot tub before heading back to our fabulous high-rise room overlooking the harbor.
The view from our room at Scandic Havet!
One of our biggest reasons for venturing into the arctic at this time of year was the hope of seeing the northern lights, but alas, it was not to be on this night.
The clouds were not going to break and give us a clear view of the sky.
But what spectacular clouds!
Going with the Flow, the World’s Strongest Flow
Just after sunrise, which happened around eleven AM at that time of year, we hopped on a bus to the Saltstraumen.
This narrow channel between two fjords forces the tide waters to rush through, forming incredible, massive whirlpools and eddies as the sea levels desperately seek to equalize.
On the way we passed one of the few remaining medieval structures left standing anywhere in the area, the Bodin Church. The little white church was built around the year 1240 in a typical stone design for that time, and is still in use today.
When we reached the Saltstraumen, our driver took us over the bridge that spans the straights to get an aerial view of the swirling designs that the wild currents form in the water.
Then for a closer look, we pulled off under the bridge and walked to the water’s edge.
WATCH: You’ve got to see the video to get the full idea of the crazy speed!
Clinging to the rocky shore, we could feel the water rushing by as the tide was rising.
When the tide turns and heads back out to sea there will be a brief time that the straights are calm as the levels are equal, but soon after the process will reverse itself and the water rushes just as fast in the other direction.
All of this churning makes this a prime feeding spot for fish, and the local fishermen know it.
It was quite a show to watch as they threw lines out into the rushing current and reel in coalfish and cod.
Those fish had to be pretty dizzy by the time they made it to the surface.
As we rode back to Bodø, our bus nap ritual was set aside. The scenery was too damned stunning to risk missing by nodding off:
So did we see the Northern Lights?
The sun was already setting as we rode back into town, and seeing a few breaks in the clouds was giving us high hopes that tonight might be the night for some momentous Aurora action.
It had better be, because it is was last chance before heading back down below the circle.
In preparation for our sighting (we were thinking positive) we took a stroll out to the end of the seawall that protects the harbor.
We had heard stories that this is a popular spot to stand and face the wind and surf when storms blow in off the Norwegian Sea.
There was a pretty brisk breeze as we made our way to the lighthouse at the end, but nothing close to the crashing waves washing over people we’d seen in photos.
Maybe we aren’t quite as brave as they are, but then they do it in the summer.
Around ten o’clock we headed down from our room to the dock beside the hotel to scan the northern heavens, and lo and behold a greenish glow began to appear.
As it grew brighter, our doubts that it might just be a reflection, or something else, were removed.
This was most definitely the aurora borealis, not a spectacular display, but certainly one nonetheless. We even managed to capture some of it on camera.
Yet with the cold and fatigue from the trip, even this excitement couldn’t keep us from crawling into bed.
Veronica didn’t stay down though, she ventured back out after midnight, just in time to catch a much better aurora episode.
This time there were some waves and even various colors. After clicking her brains out on the camera, and trying every possible setting, she felt confident enough that she had captured the moment to go inside and wake me up.
When I saw the photos I jumped out of bed and threw on my clothes and a coat. I had to see this!
But alas, by the time we got back out only a faint glow remained. We waited and watched for a while, but it was getting seriously cold — like arctic cold – so we went back inside.
So who in their right mind plans a trip above the Arctic Circle in December?
A big thank you to Visit Norway and Visit Bodø for this illuminating adventure – and to Eurail for the 15-day rail pass that inspired us to undertake it! As always, all opinions are our own.
Jumping out of a perfectly good airplane has become one of those ultimate bucket list items.
Like living to 120 years old or climbing Mount Everest.
Of the three, the most feasible to me was the jump. Which turned out to be a bit odd, because there was no jumping at all on my part – but I’m jumping ahead of myself.
I’m so glad my tandem instructor, Julian caught this moment right before the door was opened. Until now, I never knew what I looked like in pure panic mode. Most of the photos and video are taken from a camera mounted on the (thankfully) multi-talented Julian’s wrist.
When we first spoke to Tourism and Events Queensland about heading to Australia, they asked if there was something special we would like to do.
Without hesitation, I mentioned that I always like to face a fear conquering event – something that inspires others (and myself) to step outside of our comfort zones.
This is me – not looking down. It seemed like we sat here on the edge of the plane for two hours. Video evidence (see below) proves it was a lot closer to two seconds.
I should have known better, Australians are — by nature — an adventurous people, and I am not. I’m trying — and growing — but I’m not even close to Aussie level.
When skydiving was mentioned, I wholeheartedly said yes, drawing an evil glare from David. In a bit of role reversal,I was the one chomping at the bit while he was the one hemming and hawing.
Thankfully, I somehow kept my eyes open. And my mouth. And my nostrils. I wasn’t aware that nostrils could get so big.
Catching on to his hesitation, the gang at TEQ suggested an alternative for David – a day at a spa.
He liked that idea, relaxing on terra firma, perhaps enjoying a massage, while I fell from the sky.
But there was a catch – if he chose the spa day, he would have to partake in a full body wax.
Suddenly, he was all-in for skydiving.
It wasn’t until the night before the Big Jump Day that I started to freak out. Not terribly, but just enough that my panic mantra (people do this every day and don’t die… people do this…) was necessary. I slept, but barely.
Smile or grimace? We will never know.
With the moment at hand and panic mode setting in, I could certainly appreciate some humor, and the folks at Skydive Ramblers didn’t fail to deliver.
While getting harnessed in, my supersonic onslaught of questions (what happens if?… why do we need that?… how come you just?…) was cleverly answered or jokingly deflected by my tandem instructor, Julian.
Arms out to embrace the earth coming up at me!
My first jolt of actual terror came when I saw the plane.
For some stupid reason I had envisioned a huge cargo plane full of enthusiastic jumpers standing in a large doorway while Ride of the Valkyries played in the background.
A semi-military situation with white chutes drifting over the target zone.
Nope. Instead a bright yellow Cessna 182 was on the runway. There would be no standing up in it, sitting was even tight.
Once we were in flight, I mentioned to David that six years ago – prior to my decision to face my fears head-on – I would have NEVER gotten into this kind of plane at all.
See how brave I am?
Or not, since I was (not so) subtly suggesting that maybe the flight alone was enough to get me off the hook. Maybe I should just fly around a bit and that would be plenty for the day.
There were two problems with this strategy.
1) If I didn’t jump, David would be stuck, unable to get around me to jump, or more accurately fall, out the door himself.
2) David had, all of the sudden, become really excited about the prospect of hurling himself out of the plane. Damn.
So when we reached 10,000 feet, I jumped. Or dropped. Or fell. Whatever it was, I did it.
WATCH: I am visibly terrified.
I can’t really explain the feeling of free-falling. There is nothing natural that can prepare a human for the sensation; I don’t think we’re mentally equipped to process plummeting to the ground at 130+ miles an hour.
It isn’t like a roller coaster. I didn’t feel the sensation of the ground coming up at me. My brain must have gone into something akin to shock, because the entire thirty-second free-fall portion took on a slow-motion, dreamy quality.
The opening of the parachute was my favorite part (mostly because I was pretty sure it meant I was far less likely to die by the end) and, for me, the biggest rush. That is where the roller coaster feeling happened, and I like roller coasters.
Once I let go of Julian (I had somehow clawed onto his arm) and realized that my white-knuckled hanging-on to the harness made no difference safety-wise (not that I stopped doing it), a peacefulness set in. It really was beautiful and serene up there.
But not calm enough to truly settle a panicky person such as myself. So I began to fire off questions about the landing. Seems I had to have something new to freak out about. Sorry Julian – it’s how I roll. Man, Julian’s a good guy.
Picture perfect landing onto Coolum Beach!
Landing was mercifully uneventful, I simply stood up when Julian said “stand up.”
Shoes are optional for this news crew! Love it!
Then the news crew came racing over.
We had no idea they were going to be there and I was too wigged out to do anything but babble.
Luckily, our segment was short, David quickly came to my rescue and the reporter was really, really nice!
WATCH: I am introduced to the Australian public by way of the amount of saliva I don’t have in my mouth. Classic Veronica!
Bonus Fun! The best of David’s face whilst skydiving!
