Okay so it's the last official day of Spring Break (the joys of being a teacher and getting the same vacation as the kids) and I haven't accomplished anything. I have sat on my couch or outside in a lawn chair and read five books, and done absolutely nothing else. Even today I'm supposed to go get my tire fixed, grocery shop for our weekend camping trip and I can't get my lazy ass off the couch or my eyes away from this computer long enough. What's up with that? I don't know I guess I just don't get to really relax all that often and that's what this week has really been, relaxation. I wanted to do more; grade papers (as per usual), laundry, clean my bedroom (it really needs it) but nope. Just procrastinated to the point where there is no time left. Oh well. Summer is in three months. Maybe I'll get another chance.

Vacation in Ohio

Am currently on vacation in Ashtabula, Ohio. A small town in northeastern Ohio about 15 minutes from Lake Erie, Ashtabula seems stuck in a time warp. The people who choose to live here grew up here, as did their parents and grandparents, etc. They play in the school parks, go for long walks, sit on their front porches or stoops and wave to people walking by. It's the type of place where every one knows everyone else and your business is not really your own. I love it here because it's peaceful, quiet and gives you time to think. With Cleveland about 50 minutes away, you can experience the fast paced life if you want but most people would rather go visit the Pymatuning Spillway or go to the Little League baseball games. Family is more important than computers/texting/Facebook and life moves at a much slower pace. In San Antonio (where I'm from) people are constantly on the go, going from work, to the gym, to the Riverwalk, to the clubs, etc., but here, you have time to just sit and enjoy the breeze, the thwack of the bat hitting a baseball, the squeak of the swings, whoosh of the wind through the screen door, the "Yoo-hoo" from family coming over to visit. Relaxation is the key - though people do go about their daily lives with work and gym visits, etc., it's not fast-paced.

Yesterday, we went with my uncle for a drive through Amish country, enjoyed the scenery and had an impromptu cookout over a fire pit located in a park on the Green River. We'd driven out there because I used to go there as a kid in the summers for family picnics (my dad's family is from this area). Then we drove through several "townships" (county's back in Texas) looking at houses, trees and covered bridges which are abundant in this area. We stopped in Mesopotamia, OH at a store called "End of Commons General Store" for ice cream and penny candy. There were girls dressed in Amish clothing (I think they were but not sure!) and the store itself was a treasure trove of homemade jams, jellies, candy, ice cream, gelatin, and many other delights. At the deli counter, the selection of meats and cheeses was enough to make your mouth water and the piece of sharp Cheddar I bought was so creamy, it had to be homemade. Coming back home, my uncle let me drive his 1963 Malibu/Chevelle - man the power those classic cars have!

All in all my vacation so far has been completely stress free and relaxing. The things I've enjoyed most is sitting on the screened-in porch talking with my cousins and just chilling. I'm not looking forward to leaving for my fast-paced home again in a couple of days....except for the fact that I miss my husband and other girls.

Six Minutes of Insanity

Terrified didn’t begin to cover the way I felt that day. I had clammy hands, a nervous stomach, and sweat beads popping out on my forehead – I was quivering with fear - and that just barely covers my description. Shining in brilliant beams between the clouds that dotted the sky like jet-puffed marshmallows, the sun beat down as the light breeze attempted to cut the degree heat while we drove towards my doom that day, a perfect Texas day. ‘Why couldn’t it rain?’ I thought to myself. What I really wanted to do at that moment was to go back home and hide under the biggest rock I could find in the eight acres of cow pasture we rented, or maybe hide under one of the cows. However, Marty McFly and I have something in common; I, too, never backed down from a challenge of a bully. Unfortunately, that bully wasn’t Biff Tannen, but instead, my loving husband, Nick.

We pulled up to the gray, steel metal building in Bryan, Texas; full of parachutes, jumpsuits, harness’ and other paraphernalia, Nick got out of the car, grabbed his video camera and started filming. Sitting in the car for long moments, I contemplated my fate. Would I actually go through with it? Would I survive? Knocking on my window with the lens of his camera, startling me out of my reverie, Nick asked, “Are you all right?” with a mischievous grin.

“No, I’m not. I feel sick. I think I’m going to throw up,” I replied with a pained expression.

“Oh come on, you’ll be fine!” he retorted.

“Easy for you to say. You wanted to do this. I don’t!” I exclaimed.

“Yes you do. Think about all the fun you’ll have. Think about what a rush it will be. I wouldn’t make you do this if I didn’t think you’d love it.” He countered, taunting me with his boyish love of adventure.

However, I didn’t quite see it that way. “The thing is, and you said it yourself, you’re ‘making me do this’. What if I didn’t want to do it?” I queried.

“But…but I already paid for it. And you said you would…” he looked as a child looked when their favorite toy is taken away from them.

“I know. And I never back down from a challenge. But I’ll have you know, you so owe me big time for this.” I replied.

Getting out of the car, I walked dejectedly toward the yawning mouth of the hangar. I often look at that tape now and laugh to see myself, my bright red hair shining in the golden sun; a big, fake smile plastered on my face; acting as though I’m walking to the gallows waiting for the hangman to put the noose around my neck.

I put on my gear, climbed into the cramped space of the soaring sardine can they called a plane, between the instructor, pilot and cameraman and endured the taunts - references to my intense fear of heights being the topic of utmost fun – while my stomach began doing somersaults in time to the turning of the planes rotors. At 12,500 feet, we reached our cruising height and Dave, my instructor, indicated by tapping me on the shoulder that we needed to get ready to meet my fate. I squeezed myself into the tightest fetal position that I could, slowly worked my way 180˚ around so that my back was to Dave, and waited patiently while he connected the straps that would hold me tightly to him while we soared through the air at 120 miles per hour.

Suddenly, the door whipped open and a roaring in my ears began; I felt as though the entire world opened up and wanted to swallow me whole, I wished it would have. Knowing it was too late to back out now, my stomach began gymnastic floor exercises and rounded it off by twisting itself into knots; I don’t think I’ve ever felt so sick. The cameraman gave me a smile, stepped onto the minuscule step that served as man’s last tether with sanity, waved and fell backwards into nothingness. Then Dave tapped me again, the signal telling me my brush with insanity began now.

Taking a deep breath and feeling my heart in my throat, I scooted slowly to the door of death, careful not to look down, my fear of heights causing me to not want to see the events as they unfolded by knowing I had no choice. Dave’s finger pointed to the step that I needed to stand on much the way I remember Death’s finger pointing to Ebenezer’s grave in “A Christmas Carol”. Gingerly, I placed one foot on the step, then the other, Dave right behind me not giving me much time – for anything. He began rocking back and forth; one…two…three…and we pushed off into thin air…into nothingness.

Amazement doesn’t begin to describe the feeling that free falling gave me. Sixty seconds of the world rushing up to meet me so fast I didn’t feel as though I could catch my breath. Making me feel as thought I were on the ride at the carnival where you stick to the walls and the floor drops out from underneath your feet, the wind pushed at me and the skin on my face flapped back and forth like Dumbo’s ears. Those sixty seconds felt like forever right then.

With a tremendous jerk, the parachute opened and I was yanked up and then dropped back down as though being on the end of a rubber band. We now floated towards Earth, almost a mile up in the air, with the parachute billowing above us like sheets on a wash line. Looking down, the world below unfolded before my eyes. The toy cars moving slowly over the ribbon roads, the black shapes dotting the fields, from that height everything looked so surreal.

Within minutes the ground rushed up to meet us and Dave, behind me, told me to prepare for landing. Trying to recall what Dave had told me, I pulled my feet in, picturing myself sitting on a chair and prepared for the impending impact. My feet hit the wet earth and I started sliding, slithering on my rear in the crab grass and mud, while Dave tried to keep us upright. We were safe…and alive.

Camping in Paradise

Paradise Canyon, TX located along the Medina River is an virtual gem of relaxation only 20 minutes outside Bexar county. Friends invited us to spend some time with them out there on Father's Day weekend and we've continued going on weekends since. Offering daily or overnight use, we went camping this weekend (I know, the fourth of July, crowded right? Not at all for overnight) and had the most relaxing time. My husband, who is incredibly stressed at work, did nothing but sit and enjoy the rushing of the water over the rocks, the chirping of the crickets, the croaking of the frogs and the whoosh of the wind blowing through the trees. Even being as aqua phobic as he is, he sat in the "natural jacuzzi" (formed by the rapids) with me for over an hour. Being a city girl myself, I loved sitting in my camp chair in the middle of the river, enjoyed the sun on my skin and watching the leaves float as the current dragged them further down river. The only parts that weren't enjoyable were the snake that swam so close to us we could almost touch it, the animals that took off with our trash bag (our fault for leaving it out overnight), the group of overenthusiastic night fishermen who decided our campsite looked like a great spot to fish and not having a real toilet (yes I am a city girl!). Oh and my newly lobster-like skin! We're going back in three weeks for our 10-year anniversary and I'm looking forward to it!

More information on Paradise Canyon can be found on their website www.paradisecanyon.com. If you live in Texas anywhere near San Antonio, you've got to visit this place!