transient travels

defining adventure

2015-06-11T01:44:55Z

This past Sunday my family and I had nothing on the agenda. No barbecues, no parties, no errands (we do grocery shopping on Saturdays now, don’t be jealous). So we decided to be spontaneous – on a whim, we went to the zoo. The idea just came to us, I looked up Sunday hours and boom, we were in the car on our way to Stone Zoo just north of Boston. The idea was conceptualized, executed and completed within hours, which is pretty impressive with a 16-month-old in tow if I do say so myself.

This post isn’t recap of our trip, you’ve been to a zoo before, they’ve got animals. It’s more of a reflection on what spontaneity and adventure looks like for me today, as a full time working mother who hasn’t been on a plane since before I was pregnant.

What I’ve learned is, it’s all relative.

There’s a point in your life – well, my life – when the day-to-day bogs you down so much that making plans seems daunting. That’s a battle I’ve had with myself for a while, and I’ve got this blog here to hold me accountable. And as your life and lifestyle evolves, no matter what shape that takes – as a parent, employee, significant other, friend – your perspective of what’s possible changes too.

Will I get on a plane again soon? Once I settle into a new professional adventure I’ve got on the horizon, I’ll be ready to put a plan that’s been in the works for a while into action.

But for now, I’m defining adventure a little differently. And if it takes me to a place that can create awe, joy and amazement in my daughter, that’s plenty adventure for me.

local roots

2014-11-10T02:43:49Z

When traveling, the key to unearthing a place’s culture is often found in its food – when you avoid restaurants with menus that even attempt to cater to tourists, sip wine from local grapes and drink beer brewed with local hops. Sometimes, it’s even taking the extra step to visit a market to really live, breath – and eat – the life of the locals.

It’s a habit that can get lost when you’re home. Routines and busy schedules can sometimes prevent us from stopping to appreciate what our own unique places have to offer.

Yesterday, Ina Garten played in the background as Mike, Madeleine and I got ready for a walk to our local farmers market. In the episode she visited one in her area and shared advice that set the tone for our trip: instead of going to a market equipped with a recipe, she lets the ingredients inspire them.

It’s clearly the season of root vegetables here in New England and I couldn’t get beef stew out of my head. I wanted to plan a dinner using only ingredients I could find at the market and for the most part, I did it. There was only one ingredient that led us astray.

Mike had been curious to try a Narragansett Coffee Milk Stout and the opportunity to pour a can into a beef stew seemed like the perfect excuse to finally pick it up. So, we got that critical ingredient elsewhere.

Sticking with my rule of only using ingredients we picked up at the market (sans beer), I decided to forge ahead without a recipe. Attempting to match what I happened to pick up with some random one on the Internet would only set me up for failure. Instead, I just cooked the beef – which I also picked up at the market – threw in some broth, beer, water and of course, an array of vegetables and potatoes, and hoped for the best.

Despite my lack of talent in the kitchen, it all somehow worked out. I loved it and Mike did too unless he’s a really good liar.

Oh, and don’t let that side of beer in the last photo fool you. These tired, locally fed parents were passed out on the couch before nine.

peeling back the layers

2014-10-19T02:31:02Z

Today my yoga teacher laid out an analogy that made me think intellectually for the first time in a while, probably because these days, yoga – the third class I’ve been to in maybe a year – is the only time I have no choice but to think of nothing but the present. She told a story about her life before yoga, which included an array of fitness roles, from aerobics instructor to personal trainer. In those roles, she told us that one of the most asked questions she’d receive was, “how do I get six pack abs.” Her answer: “you have them, you just have some layers on top.” In the context of our class, she related these “layers” to anything and everything that might be weighing us down. Whatever our goals, or “intentions” are, “we have them already,” we just have to peel back the layers.

It made me think a lot about who we are as people versus who we let ourselves be.

My daughter, even at eight months, has a sense of curiosity that I already know will take her places – as long as I empower her to run with it and always trust her instincts. When I pick her up at daycare each day her teachers tell me that when they’re playing with or even trying to feed the other kids, she crawls all over them so she can be a part of the action. It makes me feel proud, but mostly a bit relieved that maybe she won’t inherit my sense of reservation, my insecurities or my inability to act on instinct, but instead, be pragmatic to a fault.

Those, to name a few, are my layers.

Before my yoga class – which attending in the first place was in its own way, peeling back a layer – Mike, Madeleine and I spent our Saturday not thinking about obligations or what we “should” have been doing. Instead, we set out on our own little adventure. It started with pancakes and it ended with farm animals and gorgeous fall leaves.

How was your Saturday?

I hope it was adventurous, whether you kept it local or took it far, far away.

adventures in homebrewing

2014-08-09T01:55:51Z

Mike and I set off on a new adventure more than a year ago thanks to a generous Christmas gift from my brother-in-law, Bill: a brew kit. Our first foray into brewing – which entailed me following Mike around the kitchen with my camera as he did all the work – was a complete success. The first batch tasted, well, like beer. I don’t mean to seem surprised, I’ve just heard that it takes some practice to perfect this concoction and to have our first batch not only turn out right, but delicious, was a lovely surprise.

Since then there have been other cases, including one that Mike dubbed my Postnatal IPA – another hoppy success. Last weekend Mike started another batch and it inspired me to complete this post, which had been in draft form for longer than I care to admit.

So, from a bird’s eye view, let me walk you through the joy that is brewing your own beer…

Steep your grains.

Heat your malt.

Don’t forget the hops. Don’t ever forget the hops.

Add some oak chips if you like.

Get your bottles ready.

Siphon.

Close ’em up.

And be patient.

After a few weeks, you’ll have your very own homebrew.

See? Isn’t it easy? Actually it’s a bit more complicated than that. You’ll have to get real instructions. But it’s totally worth every step.

on motherhood

2014-06-21T17:17:09Z

This post – my first in ages – was started and stopped many times over the last several months. That’s because I had a baby.

My sweet little Madeleine is about 4 months old now. It’s become clear that all of the adventures I’ve had to date were leading up to this point – this is what I was always meant to do. I look back and laugh at the times I thought I was so busy balancing work and life now that Motherhood has jammed itself into the mix, but there’s a lot it has taught me. They’re lessons that aren’t groundbreaking, or even surprising, but there’s a big difference between knowing them and knowing them.

Most important, you can’t plan everything. Not much about my pregnancy went according to plan, and I’m blogging right now because my sweet little babe is taking a nap, but in this moment I know that I may never finish this post. And that’s okay. You have to embrace that sense of uncertainty because you never know what unexpected good it can bring. Once that’s accomplished, suddenly the hurdles that once would have caused you to fall aren’t so hard to overcome.

Don’t take free time for granted. Especially since going back to work, cherishing the time I have with my daughter and my husband has taken a whole new meaning. My effort to evolve away from my type A tendencies and to SHUT THE LAPTOP ALREADY has hastened. In fact, I feel like a fool for ever acting any other way.

Finally, sleep is overrated. No, it’s not. But how else am I going to get through each day without that little lie?

staying close to home

2013-08-29T14:39:55Z

If I had to sum up the last several, mostly blogless, months I couldn’t. Suffice it to say, my adventures have kept me close to home, but they’ve been filled with plenty of milestones, little jaunts and explorations.

For starters, my beautiful nephew turned one and in true Forshner fashion, made us proud by devouring a near adult-size piece of birthday cake that he jammed into his mouth by the fistful.

I’ve been walking, a lot. From getting to and from work to fitting in a stroll with Mike after work and stopping to explore and appreciate the historical landmarks I barely notice when speeding by in a car.

I’ve even crossed town lines – did my best to keep up my new hiking “hobby” – and explored the Naonet Woodlands in Dover, MA.

A jaunt which rewarded me with this distant, yet beautiful view of the Boston skyline.

I also spent some time being a homebody for once, hosting my friends and family for some much needed Nintendo time thanks to the folks at Brand About Town. As you can see, my brother-in-law Grayson was entranced.

And my brother Pat and cousin Sydney lost all inhibitions and let loose to Just Dance 4.

I also uncovered my new obsession, Sing Party. My friends Lisa, Egan, Bryce and I – and even Mike a little – stayed up into the late hours singing our hearts out.

I also turned 31. Yeah, I’m really in my thirties now.

How’s life treating you?

____

Disclaimer: As a Nintendo Brand Enthusiast, I received the WiiU and mentioned games complimentary, but all opinions expressed in this post are true and my own, because who wouldn’t love a gaming system that lets you dance and sing your heart out whenever you want?

you know you’re a new englander when…

2013-07-20T12:06:39Z

Summer strikes with a vengeance pouring nearly 100 degrees over the region, and suddenly, you long for days like this…

That’s the thing about New Englanders. We live here because we love having all four seasons, but the second one of them hits us too hard we’re either yearning for the next one or looking back fondly on seasons passed. So I’m just going to embrace it.

Last February my friend Caitlin prompted another girls weekend trip up to Brownsville, Vermont for a few days of skiing, wandering and relaxing. Not far from Brownsville is a quaint little town called Woodstock, where we spent part of our Saturday and got experience the town in its element – covered in snow.

Incidentally, it’s also where I stumbled upon the best muffin I’ve ever had in my life. The Daily Grind, a coffee shop in the center of town, was the perfect place to stop and have a sip of coffee and a bite to eat after a day out in the cold.

Okay, I guess I don’t really wish it was winter again. But I’ll take the fleeting thought if it reminds me to look back and appreciate some good times.

it might be scary, but do it anyway

2013-06-19T02:26:47Z

Half moon is a yoga pose that has, say, your left hand reaching for the floor as the other extends toward the sky. Meanwhile, your left leg is planted on the ground while the other lifts up and points to the wall behind you. It’s a pose that doesn’t come too hard for me at first, perhaps it’s my years as a figure skater. But just when I’m feeling comfortable the instructor challenges the class to look straight up in the direction of the elevated hand.

First though, she prefaces with: “this can be scary, looking up.”

She’s right. I start by gliding my eyes north, head locked so as to avoid shattering the balance I have achieved. A few more seconds go by and I let my head turn in the direction of my right hand. For one second, I’m looking up. It’s a rush. Like jumping into the cold New England ocean from a jetty instead of easing yourself in from the beach. But all too soon, my knee buckles and I collapse out of the pose.

Travel’s like that. That feeling you get when you’re about to step out of your comfort zone is scary, but also exhilarating. Hell, doing anything that could make you fall is like that too. You could be psyching yourself up to sit at a bar alone and be at peace with your solitude instead of insecure, or climbing a mountain you feel you have no business scaling because you haven’t trained or simply haven’t done it before.

The thing with half moon though is I know someday I’ll get it, and what I will have accomplished is the mere mastering of a pose.

What matters is the practice.

The act of diving straight in even though it will be uncomfortable, of charging forward even when you’re scared, of looking up even if you know you’ll fall.

capturing nemo

2013-02-10T16:55:23Z

Many areas of New England saw as much as three feet of snow as the record-breaking blizzard, known as Nemo, pummeled the region. Like most New Englanders, that left Mike and I cooped up in our house, until cabin fever got the best of us.

In case you haven’t seen enough photos of this epic storm, here’s a glimpse into our storm watch adventure…

climbing up mount washington & out of ruts

2013-01-25T04:00:23Z

Have you ever been in a rut that forces you to say no to everything? A rut that makes you back out of plans when the logistics seem too complicated or when you envision yourself being way too tired? A rut that kills the thing in you that fuels your sense of adventure?

Sure, I talk “adventure” here all the time, but in reality this blog is the thing that holds me accountable to my “adventurousness.” I hate to admit it, but my dark side is the side of me that backs out to take the easy route. No, not the easy route – the “sensible” route. But I ask you – me actually – how many once-in-a-lifetime moments have I seared into my memory thanks to taking the “sensible” route? Not many. It’s stupid, but I do it and I bet you do to0.

I was right smack in the middle of one of those ruts when I realized it was way too late to back out of hiking up Mount Washington. Yeah, Mount friggin’ Washington. The highest peak in New England. My preparation for the hike at that point was a couple of easy strolls up the Blue Hills within the past year or so. But my brother-in-law, Grayson, heard that me and Mike wanted to become an “active couple” and “start hiking” and he made it happen.

Despite a flurry of emails offering tips, recommendations and overall enthusiasm in the weeks leading up to the trip, I kept looking ahead to the day with dread. Not because I didn’t want to go, but because I let my schedule take precedence over actually getting in shape for the climb. So, on one pitch black Saturday morning in late October, me, Mike, Grayson and my sister Jenny hit the road at 4:00 a.m.

When we arrived at the bottom of Mount Washington and prepared for the hike to the top, we discovered that the early stages were merely a “hike.” And it was lovely…

It wasn’t until we took our first rest at the bottom of the mountain, with a perfect view of the “bowl,” or Tuckerman Ravine, when we realized that our journey had only just begun.

Soon we found ourselves not hiking, but literally climbing up the mountain, grasping for rocks that we prayed were sturdy enough to stay lodged into the earth and not send us tumbling.

Then, finally, after four grueling hours we made it to the top.

We ate a quick lunch in the cafeteria and then, thanks to these frequent rock piles, which marked our trail, we were off…

…and got to take in some of gorgeous views along the way.

We made it back down in a little less than four hours, rounding out an 8 hour day of climbing. It was tough, but we did it.

Now, the next time I’m in a rut I have my trip up to New Hampshire to look back on. If I can climb Mount Washington, I can do anything.