Domestic Bliss - Part Deux.

We don't really do pasta for lunch around here- especially during summer. But there were special circumstances, and we made an exception today. And since I'm a dork and have an iPhone camera handy, I documented it just for you.

I'm a little proud of my basil this year. Not long ago, it looked like this:

Just past the seed stage, all cute and tiny. And now, it looks like THIS:

I grew that! From SEED! :)

Our cooking lately has revolved around basil and jalapenos... because food just tastes better when you've grown it yourself. And those are our most plentiful crops at the moment. So today, since I had a free afternoon, I decided to try something I'd never made before.

PESTO.

Talk about a good way to use up a lot of delicious basil! And with the Ninja as my partner in crime, we were cookin'.

Hot damn I love that machine! Notice how in the before picture you can barely even see the top blades, and then in the after picture you can easily see all three sets of blades! The basil/walnuts/garlic/olive oil never stood a chance against the awesomeness of the Ninja. (I'm tempted to grunt like Tim the Toolman Taylor every time I fire it up.)

We had a couple of bell peppers and an onion that were all about to die, so I decided to throw them in the mix as well.

Penne or rotini would have been my first choice, but we had neither, so spaghetti it was!

And there you have it! My first attempt at pesto! If I can manage to keep the caterpillars away, this may become a recurring delight around here.

Domestic Bliss.

I found an awesome new recipe awhile back, and finally got around to trying it out today! I mean, c'mon... banana nutella muffins? Heck. Yes. So the orange wonder and I got down to business in the kitchen. It had been far too long since our last adventure together, and it was a happy reunion.

The recipe calls for a basic banana muffin, with a dollop of nutella mixed in on top. It says to use a toothpick to do the mixing, but since we don't have those in the house, I found that a chopstick worked just fine.

And they didn't have any hazelnuts at the grocery store, so I substituted walnuts. Still crunchy and delicious.

In a word: AH-MAZING. I can't wait for Leo to get home. He flips over pretty much anything involving bananas... And if he doesn't devour every last one of them, the excess will come with me to work tomorrow. Having to start a 12 hour shift at 5:30am is surely made better by muffins for all!

AND- since we had a jalapeno ripen up in the garden, I decided to do a mango salsa with dinner. I'm sharing a picture because I enjoy all the pretty colors.

I love days off work. :)

We fly through the air with the greatest of ease...

Last night, I had a dream. (Just call me MLK) And I must share it with you all because it was that awesome.

It started with Tom and I sitting in a house. I didn't recognize the house, but we were sitting at a kitchen table, discussing an upcoming trip. Apparently it was going to be fun and we were both pretty excited to get going. Next thing I know, we had set off and were headed toward our destination. But instead of driving in a car or traveling by airplane, we were flying. As in, FLYING. Technically, Tom was flying and I was along for the ride. He had his arm around me and I had my arms around a pillow as we cut through the clouds. It was nighttime, so we were looking at all the lights down below. And I just know I was very concerned about that darn pillow. As he would duck and weave through the clouds, I held on tight and told him at one point: "Don't you dare lose this pillow! It's my favorite!" As far as I could tell, we had no luggage. Just my pillow.

After flying for awhile, Tom told me it was time to land. He handed me what looked like a small backpack, and told me to put it on. Apparently it was a parachute just in case he couldn't land us without assistance. It had four straps total, and he helped me put it on "properly." Basically, one set of straps went around the front normally, and the other set went on backwards. (I've never been skydiving but I'm pretty sure that's NOT the right way to strap on a parachute.) 

We started our descent, and within seconds we were approaching an enormous house. Tom told me it was his goal to land under the kitchen table, since that was safest. (Duh.) And we more or less came in for a skid/crash landing. Chairs flew everywhere as we landed hard and went sliding across the dining room floor. We breathed a sigh of relief, and began to take off our unnecessary parachutes. 

Suddenly, a dark figure came out of the shadows and we were being pelted with pink paintballs. The figure clearly didn't want us in his house, but as we ran for cover, Tom started to talk to him. He set down his paintball gun, and as I looked up, I saw, standing before us, Michael Jordan. BASKETBALL SUPERSTAR, Michael Jordan. Apparently it was his house we had been planning this big trip to! And apparently we were all friends. 

Michael apologized for the confusion and led us to his guesthouse, where we'd be staying. Yep- staying at Michael Jordan's house... no biggie. 

The end. 

Tom used to tease me all the time about my crazy dreams. He accused me more than once of smoking crack before bedtime... I just love that this time around, he was IN the crazy dream.

The 1LT Tom Martin Foundation launched a new project last week called "Keeping TIME." If only we could have taken pictures at Michael Jordan's house wearing a few of those shirts, it would've been a TRULY great dream.

Getting away from it all right here...

I realize I've been back from Central America for over a week now and have yet to write a blog about it. I will! I promise! I finally got around to unpacking and putting everything away yesterday, so that's a step in the right direction, yes? But first-- you get a completely different reading experience.


Leo and I love to travel. No secret there. It really is one of our favorite things to do together. Especially with school and work and the countless other things we're juggling on a daily basis around here, it's so nice just to drop it all, find a place we haven't been yet, and go! So, being the type of person I am, I started planning back in JANUARY and trying to come up with different possible summer travel scenarios for this year. And it's been one obstacle after another.

Our schedules are ridiculous. There's no other word for it. Mine's a little better than his, but when added together, there's zero wiggle room. Since January, I've scribbled little notes to myself of important dates: when each of our classes start and stop, Leo's teaching schedule, Leo's summer camp teaching schedule, his coaching schedule, my work schedule... These dates were then projected onto several color-coded spreadsheets, and analyzed time and time again to try to find a loophole. (Don't judge me.) One did not exist. We originally thought of flying up to the Midwest and making our way through South Dakota and into Montana and Wyoming- visiting Mount Rushmore, the Badlands and Yellowstone along the way. Definitely no time for that. So then we thought about heading up to Portland/Seattle and setting sail on an Alaskan cruise from there. Nope. And then maybe a trip to Hawaii? Again- no. (Notice how the days necessary for each trip are shrinking...) I held out hope that we could find at least four days together and we could do Vegas or Miami. But that idea also crumbled.

I realize this may sound strange seeing as I just got back from an amazing trip to Central America and had a fabulous time (to be chronicled later). But traveling WITH Leo is much different. The idea is to get away together.

It was about this time last month that I finally came to the conclusion that we would not be leaving Dallas as a twosome this summer. The spreadsheets were erased from my computer's memory in a fit of crankiness and I reenacted this scene from Anchorman a few times:

HOWEVER, we did come up with a Plan F. As of 4pm this afternoon, we will be checking into the beautiful Magnolia Hotel in downtown Dallas and enjoying an entire weekend of absolutely nothing.

We may walk around the West End or go to the Botanical Gardens or get some pampering at a spa... but nothing is officially planned. It is also very likely we could stay in and eat room service and watch soccer all weekend! I guess we'll see. Although made-up words like "staycation" make me cringe, I've been told that's exactly what we're doing. Tourists in our own city!

Guatemalan Stitches

I dream of one day writing a book. Haven't quite settled on a title yet, but I'm thinking something along the lines of "The Wandering Klutz" or "A Roaming Klutz" or something incorporating "Crazy Aunt Llaura..." We'll see.

It will include the many (often entertaining) mishaps that have happened to me over the years while traveling. There have been more than a few "sticky situations"- both good and bad- that simply must be shared with the general public. But unfortunately, there are hurdles involved: 1) getting published is hard. (I've researched this and know it to be true.) and 2) I lack the free time to chain myself to a publisher's desk and demand a writing deal. So I've hatched a plan. I'll start posting stories here on the blog, and a big and powerful publisher will catch wind of them one day and BEG me to write an entire book. I figure I can't fail.

So to start things off, I give you--

Guatemalan Stitches.

*Disclaimer: Awesome, but somewhat graphic, photos below. Read at your own risk.

In 2006, I went on my first international medical mission trip to Guatemala. I traveled with an organization called HELPS International, and we set up a clinic in the (extremely) rural village of Uspantan for a week. It was an absolutely amazing time that cemented my passion for both humanitarian aid and travel. After finishing up our clinical duties, the team members got to spend 3 days in the enchanting city of Antigua. (One of my favorite little cities EVER.) We were put up in a beautiful hotel, with a pool and comfy beds and little towel creatures made for us every day... and from Antigua we were able to enjoy day trips to some of Guatemala's coolest offerings.

I liked it so much the first time around that I elected to return to Guatemala with the same team in 2007. And in Antigua, during those rest & relaxation days, is where this story begins.
I had chosen to partake in a trip to the beautiful Volcano de Pacaya. It's an active volcano that people can hike up and watch the flowing lava and enjoy the amazing scenery of Guatemala.

With our faithful guide along for the journey, we started to climb very early in the morning. The clouds were still hanging low and it was so fun to hike through them as we headed upward.

Now, I'm not sure if you've ever seen hardened lava, but it's pretty impressive. It's incredibly sharp and jagged, and as we got closer to the top, it was important to pay attention to your step because one false move would cause your shoe would melt. There were pockets of fresh lava everywhere, and we were instructed to step ONLY where our guide was stepping. Definitely no handrails or anything of the kind in sight. As we climbed, a few friends (who knew my gravitationally challenged history) were teasing me to pay extra close attention and not trip. And I was doing great! Only stepping where I should, no shenanigans of any kind, just steadily hiking and trying to focus.

As we got closer to the top, someone in our group shouted "Look! The lava flow!" and we all looked up. Sure enough, we were close enough to see the river of fresh, molten lava flowing about 30 feet from where we were standing.

And apparently in my excitement... I lost my footing. Suddenly, I fell forward, landing hard on my right knee on the extremely sharp hardened lava below. I remember not saying a word as everyone else reacted- I was stunned. The pain in my knee was excruciating. I stood up and looked down just in time to see the blood come gushing out of the leg of my capris, and head straight down to my sock and into my shoe. All I could get out was: "I'm going to throw up." It wasn't the blood, it was the pain! The urologist of the group (yes, I see the joke here) came to my rescue and used the bandana from his head as a tourniquet around my leg. They did their best to mop up the blood and get me semi-decent for the climb back down. As we were stuck on the top of a VOLCANO, I had no choice but to hobble back down on my wounded extremity.

Just before attempting to stand up for the first time, I remember hearing "Laura, smile!" and looking up for someone to take this beauty of a picture:

By that point, the bandana was saturated, and I ended up with a white tank top tied around my knee. No clue who donated that to the first aid effort... I somehow scrounged up two walking sticks from other members of the group and used them as crutches to get back to the bottom, hobbling and cringing the whole way.

I bent down and grabbed 2 lava rocks, which still sit on a shelf in our dining room to this day, and left a message to future volcano climbers:

The guide had a horse waiting for me as we got back to softer ground, and though it was nice not to walk anymore, that stupid horse did manage to run my newly injured leg into a few fences on the way to the parking lot... It was lucky I had temporarily lost the ability to kick it.

We got back to the hotel, and word quickly spread among the group that Laura had managed to injure herself on what should've been a perfectly serene and accident-free day in Guatemala. Luckily, I was with a MEDICAL team and had an excellent general surgeon who could piece me back together. We turned the hotel room into a mini OR and got to work. The cut was still full of lava bits (and God knows what else) and was definitely in need of a good debridement and some stitches.

Don't worry- it was a new toothbrush.

Bag of saline with a hole in it, and a flashlight- worked like a charm!

The doc managed to get it cleaned out and put back together nicely. Six stitches later, I was good as new! We used an eye patch for a post-op bandage and I paid my faithful surgeon with a Twix bar.

It was then he exited the scene, as he wanted nothing to do with the "disposal" of the bloody rags and towels that were left behind. The cleaning staff would surely think there had been a murder. So to avoid the backlash from a murder investigation, a friend and I snuck to the pool area late that night and tossed all the bloody evidence into a poolside trashcan. We figured by the time they found them, we'd be long gone. Sadly, the pants I had been wearing ended up in the same trashcan. The lava had cut straight through them and with the blood and everything, it was a lost cause. I think that was the most traumatic part for me. I loved those pants! 

My stitches were taken out a couple weeks later and all that remained was a lovely V-shaped scar on my right knee. It fits in nicely with all the scars that came before and after... and though it's faded over the years, it always makes me smile and remember that trip to Guatemala.

730 Days.

As of today, it has officially been two years since I left Botswana. Two years since I kissed my fiance goodbye, boarded a bus, and cried all the way to Johannesburg. So very, very happy we're on the same continent now-- but missing Botswana.

O Backpack! My Backpack!

Back in 2003, I was an orientation leader for the University of Arkansas. And as part of the gig, we were given free backpacks. We carried them around campus as we gave tours and led sessions and helped out the incoming college students with whatever they needed... It was a free backpack. Nothing special. But it's been with me ever since.

It's been taken around the world and back and has been washed and dried and beaten half to death on countless occasions. But somehow, it is still looking great and doing a fine job! When I started grad school last fall, Leo encouraged me to buy a new fancy one to tote around campus, but I adamantly refused. Why would I replace a bag that was still perfectly usable?! It got me through my bachelors program with flying colors, and I had no doubt it would work just as well this time around.
And I was correct!

However, over the past few months, I've noticed that it's starting to show its age more & more. A small hole has now developed on the bottom, which is steadily growing bigger. And the lining is starting to flake away. I'm not sure if all backpacks lose their linings eventually, but it seems to be a trend among those which have been exposed to African heat. (We'll get to that in a minute.) I'm sure one of these days all of my books & binders will come crashing through the ever-growing hole in the bottom, but for now, it still works just fine.

But that leads me to my second backpack story. A beautiful North Face variety that I inherited from my brother, Tom. It was a little bigger than a school pack, and a little smaller than a full-sized pack for travel, but it made the perfect carry-on. Tom used it for years, and I then took it with me to the Peace Corps.

This was taken in April 2008, right after landing in Johannesburg, South Africa. Check out the cart's upper basket.

It was taken from country to country, in and out of tents and questionable hostels... and by the end of my 2+ year assignment, it had taken about as much as it could handle. The lining was flaking at an alarming rate, and soon anything you put inside would come out covered with pieces of disgusting old backpack guts. But I brought it back to the States with me, and have been holding onto it since.

While I thought for a split second about keeping it for the sake of sentimental value, that idea quickly vanished. First off, what good is a busted backpack- sentimental or not? Second, Tom would hate that! And third, North Face has a lifetime warranty! After a quick phone call to the company, I decided to give it a shot and send it in. Yes, it was about 10 years old and had been "well-used," but why not? Best case scenario: a free new backpack. And worst: a coupon towards my next one! No downside in sight. So I threw my traveling companion in the bathtub (per North Face's request) and got it ready to go!

That was several weeks ago, and the they got back to me within no time. The verdict: definitely not a new one for free (no surprise there), but they did give me 50% off on a replacement! And while I had hoped to put off getting a new one until Santa could bring me one for Christmas, how could I pass up 50% off??

A few days ago, this beautiful new Recon arrived in the mail.

I'm absolutely in love with the green, and even more in love with the fact that I got it for 50% off, got free shipping AND it's a direct descendent of Tom's old pack. I'm sure it will accompany me through the remainder of grad school (and whatever comes after) just fine. But just to make sure, I plan to test it officially in Nicaragua come June 9th.

It has some mighty big shoes to fill... but here's to the next generation!