Thursday, July 29, 2010

Modern Day Treasure Hunt

In a seemingly endless quest to unplug our children, we tried a new activity last weekend.

Geocaching

For those of you unfamiliar with it, geocaching is a sort of treasure hunt based on GPS coordinates.  You can sign up at http://www.geocaching.com/ to find the caches in your particular area.  You plug the coordinates into your GPS device or your phone if it has those capabilities and then follow the directions to the cache.   The cache itself is usually a smallish container filled with a log book and various items left by others who have also found the cache.  You can trade something or just enjoy looking through what is in the box.  Once you have found the cache, you log your find both at the cache and online.  

We thought it would be a fun way to explore this new part of the country.   For our first geocaching outing we chose some caches that were easy to find and had easy terrain for the most part.  We found one by an old fire station here in town.  The next one took us to a beautiful little dam with fishing about 20 minutes away.

The third one took us to the painted canyon overlook.


At that point, we were feeling more confident and set out to find a cache called "Petrified Canyon"  that indicated it had terrain that would be slightly more challenging.  I guess it is all in your perspective.  We drove into the middle of nowhere.  Gravel road.  Red clay.  We passed oil drills up close and personal.   We did not see another soul for miles.  We wondered repeatedly if our trusty GPS had led us astray.  I became convinced that we were trespassing on some sort of government land and that we would probably be shot on sight if discovered.  We finally reached what we determined was the appropriate place to park the van and head out on foot.

We hiked through sagebrush keeping our eyes peeled for rattlesnakes.  We scaled buttes and rocky formations






 watching carefully for mountain lions.   We searched and searched some more.

One of us, who shall remain nameless, chose to ignore my sage motherly advice and climbed to the top of a steep ledge.  Not a problem until it was time to come down and he found himself careening down a hill of rocks and petrified wood.  I watched in horror as he stumbled and fell.  I held my breath as he narrowly missed a boulder with his head.  I squeezed my eyes shut as his shoulder slammed into a huge rock and stopped him cold.  As he lay there for a few seconds, I wondered if he had actually slammed his head into the boulder and visions of how we would get to medical care screamed through my head.

Oh, yeah.

This is fun!

Thankfully, the only serious loss was a pair of American Eagle sunglasses that tumbled into a crevice that was too deep (and scary) to reach into.  Don't forget about the rattlesnakes.

Oh dear.   I may have given you too much information.  Hmmmmm.   I fear that I have given away the identity of the nameless child.  Hint: Which child is wearing sunglasses?

At this point, we had experienced more than enough and made the trek back to the van to enjoy the comforts of air conditioning set on max.  Did I mention that it was at least 95 degrees that day?   Sadly, we left the petrified canyon without finding the cache.

What a disappointment.  To go through all that and not even find the cache.

How could we possibly soothe our bruised egos?  And shoulders, arms and legs for one of us.

Oh, we found a way.   Let me introduce you to heaven on earth for anyone on the Atkin's Diet.

It's called Pitchfork Steak Fondue.   You don't believe such a thing exists, do you?


Yes, those are raw steaks on real pitchforks waiting to be plunged into cauldrons of hot oil.   

For us to eat.

In the fresh air.





With a beautiful view.




And each other.





Heart disease aside, I think we found a treasure.

Friday, July 23, 2010

For Your Viewing Pleasure

It is a bit windy here in North Dakota.

There aren't many trees.

Blankets were still required at more than one baseball game in June.

And I have yet to survive my first winter.

But the rugged, natural beauty here is unlike any I have seen before.

Pictures don't do it justice.

But here are a few of my best shots so far.

Sunset just outside of town



Sunset to the west of Dickinson



Western horizon



From the deck of our rental house



Badlands in Medora



Badlands about 30 minutes from Dickinson



Painted Canyon



Eastern view of Painted Canyon at sunset






What you can't see here is that a storm is brewing.



Blurry because it was dark, but look at the lightning.



A shot of the sunset on our anniversary.



Another



And one more.



Cross atop a butte at the camp the kids attended.
 It's about a 45 minute hike to the foot of the cross.

I find myself thanking God on a daily basis for the gift of beauty He has given us.  

The works of His hands are incomparable.  

Amen.




Thursday, July 22, 2010

Apostrophe Not Needed








I tried to prevent it...I really did. 
But it was bound to happen sooner or later.
Unfortunately, it came sooner rather than later.
Only three blog posts in and I committed a grammatical error published for the world (well, all four of you that are actually reading) to see.  I knew better.  I promise you that I DO understand proper usage.  I NEVER misuse there, their and they’re.  I KNOW with NO hesitation when to use to, two or too.  I was raised by two grammar nazis after all.   
Yet, there it was.  “The sum is greater than it’s parts.”  OUCH!  Somehow, I had missed this loathsome offense over and over as I read and reread and edited my writing. 
Fortunately, I have people in my life (see above reference to grammar nazis) that have always been more than willing to point out my grammatical errors.  It was only a short time before I received an email from my mom kindly asking me to correct the grammar in my latest post.
I was mortified.  
Really?  How could I have missed that?  What did everyone (again, gross exaggeration) think?  
I quickly fixed the mistake and hoped for the best.  No real harm done, I suppose, except to my pride.   I was actually very thankful to have someone who cared enough about me to bring the matter to my attention in a loving way. 
Nonetheless, the mistake has continued to nag at me.  I have turned it over and over in my head trying to learn something from it other than just the obvious proofreading lesson.    
I keep coming back to Ecclesiastes 4:9-10
~Two are better than one,
       because they have a good return for their work:
   If one falls down,
       his friend can help him up.
       But pity the man who falls
       and has no one to help him up!
The fact is, I am not perfect.  Not.Even.Close.   I stumble and fall more often than I care to admit.   I blow it in big and small ways on an almost daily basis.   I can become so involved in a situation that I easily fail to recognize a mistake I am making.  I know this may be hard to believe (wink, wink), but I’ve even been known to willfully do the wrong thing on occasion.    I am pretty sure that I am not alone in this condition.
That is exactly why I need friends in my life to help me up when I fall.   Many times a friend has been able to see things that I am unable or unwilling to see.   Likewise, I want to be the kind of friend that is willing to help another up when they fall.   
It can be unpleasant and awkward to speak the truth in love to another.  It can be just as painful and humiliating to be on the receiving end of such a conversation.  
But it is absolutely necessary.
Because just like when trying to edit our own writing...two are better than one.  We get a better return for our work when we invite someone to walk alongside us.   Life just goes better when we have someone to help us up when we fall.
Sometimes it is just a gentle reminder to proofread better.  Or not to text and drive.  Or to be more patient with our kids or spouse.  
Other times, though, we need strong words to remind us of deeply important truths about who we are and what we value.    We need someone to sound the alarm when we are unaware that there is danger looming ahead of us.  
And so the lesson in my published grammar faux pas?
None of us are perfect.  
We all need friends to help us up from time to time.    
Make sure one of those friends is a grammar nazi.

Friday, July 16, 2010

I'll Have the Tropical Heat, Please

For my recent 40th birthday, a dear, faraway friend sent me a basket filled with a mouthwatering assortment of truffles, chocolate covered nuts and chocolate filled cookies. 
 It also included something just a little bit different.





The name Tropical Heat sent me searching for the list of ingredients.  
Dark Chocolate.....no surprise there-I like dark chocolate
Roasted Macadamia Nuts.....sounds good
Dried Pineapple.....okay, that explains the tropical part
Dried Mango.....hmmm, that will be interesting
Dried Papaya....wonder what what tastes like
Unsweetened Coconut Flakes....again, wouldn't be tropical without this
Chili Powder.....what?!?!
Cayenne Pepper......seriously?!?!?!?
A few days later, I had some ladies at my house and we broke open the basket and the "Tropical Heat".






I cut the chocolate into small pieces so we could each try a bite.  The response was mixed.  Some liked it.  Some didn't.  I fell on the side that did enjoy the unexpected blend of flavors.  
The chocolate sparked the memory of a conversation I had years ago with another dear, faraway friend.  We were discussing marriage and the differences between our respective relationships.  She compared them to ice cream.  Hers was vanilla-sweet, smooth and relatively predictable. Mine was jalapeno dark chocolate chunk-sweet and spicy with some surprising (and not always pleasant) bumps.  At the time, Mark and I had hit a jalapeno and the ice cream wasn't very tasty.  I felt like it was a bad thing that we were not vanilla ice cream.   I longed for vanilla...or at least a good mint chocolate chip marriage.  
But, that was not what God had in mind for us.  
Our marriage has repeatedly weathered the bumps and burns of the jalapeno peppers.   Sometimes the heat has been  so intense that we have tears streaming down our faces.   I have wondered more than once how much more heat I can take.  Can I endure one more bite?
And then we hit a chocolate chunk.  The place where our relationship is deep and complex.  We relish the sweetness.  We savor the velvety richness and allow it to linger in our mouths.   It is that much sweeter because we remember the sting from the peppers. 
Over the years, I have learned to not only accept, but actually embrace the different flavors of our marriage.   It is not always smooth and sweet and it is NEVER going to be vanilla.  And that is okay.  Too much sweet leaves me feeling sick.  
And from now on, I am going to compare our marriage to a chocolate bar instead of ice cream.  Frankly, that jalapeno chocolate chunk ice cream would just be nasty.  
But the Tropical Heat chocolate bar was good.  
Very good.  
It isn't for everyone and that is okay.  Our differences in taste are what make life interesting.
Somehow when all those seemingly incompatible and incongruous ingredients are mixed together in the right balance, it works.  It becomes something not only edible, but delicious.  When combined properly, the result is greater than the sum of its parts.
That, my friends, is the story of our marriage.  When we offer up to God ALL of our ingredients, He is able to blend and tailor them to strike a uniquely perfect balance that works.  We become more than just the sum of our parts.   
And, it is good.  
Very good. 
Some marriages are Hershey Bars.
Some are Hershey Bars with Almonds.
I’ll have the Tropical Heat, please.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

What's in a name? Everything.




One of the reasons I have put off starting a blog is because coming up with a name is so hard.  I am such a frustrated perfectionist, I was waiting for the perfect title to come to me before I wrote anything.

I wanted it to be meaningful and yet catchy.  

I wanted it to convey who I am and what is important to me.   

I wanted it to reflect more than just my status as wife and mom.

I had a few ideas, but none of them were right~  

The Sherer Family Blog---too boring
Life on the Edge of Nowhere--too negative
The Adventures of the Sherer Family--too limited

The lack of a title kept me from stepping out and trying something new.   Especially something that requires me to make myself so vulnerable.   And so I waited and waited and waited.  And while I waited, some unexpected changes began to happen in my life.  But, of course, I didn’t record them because I didn’t have a stupid blog title!  Ironically, it was those changes that ultimately provided the elusive title.   

We were offered an opportunity.  An opportunity that would require us to leave everything familiar behind and start from scratch.  It would be costly. It was scary and unthinkable. It was certainly risky.  More often than not, it seemed downright crazy.  

But we could not ignore the whispers we were hearing.  

Step out of your comfort zone.  

Try something radically different.  

I know the plans I have for you.  Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.  You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.  I WILL be found by you.

So we listened to that small, quiet voice.  And it led us to North Dakota.  

It is costly.

It is risky.

It is scary.

And yet there is peace and comfort knowing this is exactly where we are supposed to be.  Here, in the grassy plains, I want nothing more than to continue to listen to the whispers that will lead me through the life that I was created to live.   

Even when it isn’t perfect.

Sunday, July 11, 2010

I have been thinking about writing a blog for a while now, and since I have been so negligent about keeping in touch, this seems like an ideal time to start.   You are probably wondering what things  look like here in North Dakota and  I always feel more connected to my friends when I can see where they live and what kinds of things they are seeing every day.  So join me on a virtual tour of the last month!

We are living here...


until mid-August when the owner returns from overseas and apparently would like her house back!  In the meantime, we looked at dozens of houses to buy.  

We passed on this one...


and decided to go with... 




a spec house!  The only thing we were unable to choose was the kitchen cabinets, so we (I) was immediately thrown into the world of light fixtures, flooring, and paint colors.  You can only imagine how that has been.  Actually, you KNOW what this has been like for me.  I have debated and agonized over every single choice.  



Much of our time has been spent here... 




...watching this.







All three of the kids attended a basketball camp here...



...and Katie and Jacob have become expert climbers...


...at the local rec center.



In our spare time, we have taken in some local sites including a trip to Medora which is the home of Teddy Roosevelt National Park.  It’s about  30 minutes from Dickinson.  Of course, we do have a very opinionated teenager in our midst who does not want to do anything with the family.  When we told him that we were going the park to hike and such we were told, “Nature is gay.”  I am sure that you could hear the sound of our laughter from wherever you happen to be.  Once we got there and fed the lion, he had a great time.  And we are thankful that we have added another memorable quote to the family history. 











We spent the 4th of July...



taking in all the local festivities 

including the parade,



  





the demolition derby,






and our first rodeo.



We have enjoyed some spectacular weather as well as several days that have been much hotter than I ever expected.  Apparently, it gets into the 90’s here on a fairly regular basis.   We have been treated to many 



unbelievable sunsets and...





 a few ferocious thunderstorms.


However, I have saved the most important information for last. I know you have all been concerned about...


my ability to live without




You are wondering how I am surviving the withdrawal and what kind of effect that it must be having on my children, husband and dog.  Am I able to function at all?  Do I get out of bed before noon?   Do I cry daily?   Have I been forced to enter a 12-step program?  Does such a program even exist in a town that has never experienced the joy of a drive-through Starbucks?  Well fear not my faithful friends...



for I have discovered



I’d say we are off to a good start!  

Stay tuned for more....