Hilton Head: Day 4

Posted on August 1, 2012 by Krista

My sister and niece flew back to Arizona on Day 4 so I was mostly on my own as my mom made the airport run.

I opted for beach time alone–well, as alone as you can be on a resort beach during tourist season–but despite the crowds, I was still able to relax and read and enjoy quiet time with my mind and the waves. Honestly, as much as I like people, I really like to be by myself too. Perhaps more-so.

I did have a bit of company though. [See photo of lizard] That little sucker freaked the crap out of me when he scurried across my towel and into my bag as I was sunbathing. And despite flinging him to the nether regions of the sandy shore, he kept coming back. I think he liked the shade my lounge chair provided. If only he’d stayed off my foot.

After sufficiently frying my skin, I went home and took a long cold shower, threw on a cotton dress and flip flops, put my hair in a high, wet ponytail, and went to lunch at Atlanta Bread Co. where I ate a delicious sandwich followed by a pastry the size of my head and read a book until my eyes were tired.

Later in the day, mom and I joined dad on his sunset dolphin watch cruise and Mother Nature certainly obliged with a fine, fine showing.

I see pictures like that and I think to myself, 1) I grew up in the most enchanting place in the world. 2) the Southern coastal lowcountry is the beat behind my heart. and 3) God is most certainly real and was quite the visionary Creator.

That, right there, my dear friends, is my favorite place on Earth.

Stay tuned for my final day …

Day 1

Day 2

Day 3

4 July 2012

Posted on July 5, 2012 by Krista

This is what my 4th of July looked like:

Highlights included:

1) Kaysville City parade, complete with small town beauty queens, horses, marching bands, and numerous dance troupes. There was much taffy tossed our way and the Armed Forces Veteran’s float was my favorite. I cry every year when it goes past. One of the officers even saluted me … which only made me cry harder. I am so grateful.

2) A fantastic pot-luck picnic hosted by Frit’s sister-in-law. There was so much delicious food. We honestly ate. all. day. long. Frit’s contribution was this amazing black bean and corn salsa, while mine was rice krispie treats on a stick, dipped in caramel and then chocolate. Her brother-in-law also procured a swamp cooler (that was almost as big as the house), which was positioned outside next to the picnic tables. This might have single-handedly been the best idea of the day.

3) Taking turns on the bicycle-built-for-two. That was a hoot.

4) Fireworks. Fireworks. Fireworks. With Neal Diamond and Lee Greenwood streaming from the high school football stadium loud speakers. There really is nothing like laying on blankets in a big field with thousands of other people while lights explode directly above you. They seemed bigger this year, those fireworks. And somehow reachable, like I could just lift my hand and touch them.

I suppose that’s really what this country is about. The hope. The possibility. The opportunity. Of reaching up. Of catching hold of something big and beautiful. Of lighting up the world with the fireworks in your hand.

Welcome to the Ranch [a photo tour & a little family history]

Posted on September 20, 2011 by Krista

Every morning while I was in Florida, after breakfast and 30 minutes of Fox News, my Granddad would say, “Well Krista. Get your shoes on and come take a ride with me in the golf cart to go get the paper.” I, of course, did as I was told and we would drive around the property, picking up any debris that had fallen from the trees, inspecting the grounds, checking on the neighbors, and talking.

That is how I came to know the story of how he acquired this land. He told me twice. And I loved it just as much the second time, as I did the first.

He was a 30-something businessman–an entrepreneur, if you will–and he’d just purchased a Shanty Boat called the Lazy Bones in Florida. And so, he packed up his family (my grandmother and their two boys, one of whom was my dad) and moved them from Pennsylvania to Fort Myers in the late 60s.

One day he saw a sign for “virgin Florida jungle” right on the Orange River. The price tag? $30,000 with $5,000 down. Always a risk taker, he decided to buy the 20+ undeveloped acres even though he wasn’t sure how he was going to make the first payment. A few weeks passed and the deadline was coming up. He still didn’t have the money, so he called his realtor and told him he might need to sell some of it off. He then chose the choicest 10 acres and put the rest up for sale.

Within a couple days the realtor called back with the news that he had sold the 13 acres for $34,000. He, the realtor, would keep $4,000 for his commission and Granddad would get the other $30,000–essentially getting his property for free.

My dad helped clear the land. I always think about that when I wander around through the trees and brush. And this is where he grew up–on a river in the Florida “jungle,” taking tourists on cruises through the Everglades.

And that, is the story of how my Grandparents came to build their home here in Fort Myers.

I’m on the Orange River in Florida

Posted on September 5, 2011 by Krista

I’ve been in Florida for a couple days now and if I stop to count, I’ve only got five left until I fly back to Utah. That just seems completely crazy.

Since I’ve been here I’ve watched the sunrise over the palm-lined river banks, joined Granddad for his morning turn about the property in the golf-cart (a.k.a “morning inspection”), read on the dock, watched fish jump, helped Grandma with her laundry, inspected a humongous orange grasshopper, watched for manatee floating up the river (no luck yet), and joined the senior citizen dinner rotation that seems quite prevalent in this area.

It’s quiet and green here and though my allergies are going crazy, it’s so nice to be in this place. There is history here. And history, like the Earth, grounds you.

Pictures will be sparse until I get back to Utah, for which I’m sorry–this place is beautiful–I want you to see it. But dear Granddad has no idea what his Internet password is, bless his heart. So all blogging will take place from his computer. Which has only taught me what a finicky writer I’ve become. I feel so out of place trying to craft words on someone else’s “space.”

And with that, I’ll sign off for the night. Hope you’ve had a great Labor Day! I’ll try to share more tomorrow.

The picture above is of my uncle, dad, and Granddad in 1967 as they made their way from their home in Pennsylvania to their new home in Florida. Once here, my dad helped clear this land and though it has evolved a bit over the years, it’s essentially just as I remember it as a kid.

Bliss Is …

Posted on August 24, 2011 by Krista

a tall steamed hazelnut milk . a vanilla bean scone . lounging in the trunk reading the first chapters of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland . as the sun sets over the Carolina marshes

What the World Needs

Posted on August 21, 2011 by Krista

Is a whole lot more glitter.

8:26 a.m.

Posted on July 28, 2011 by Krista

So much of the last year was accomplished with my head down, simply plowing through. Although–the word “plow” is debatable. I suppose it was more of a “clomp.” But that’s neither here nor there.

What I wish to say is that despite the head-down-often-didn’t-brush-my-teeth-till-noon-(or later) life I led, every now and again, the world around me would stop me in my tracks. Would catch my gaze and catch my heart. In truth, they were fleeting moments. But significant bits of hope during the monotony of gray nonetheless.

It was,

the way the light glinted off the lake and settled pink upon the mountain. The way a flower popped, bold and red and open to the world. The way the wind exhaled over my skin–blowing the pulse and breath of life my direction–like a Hale Mary from Mother Nature.

Such moments never fail to render me helpless with a total intoxication of beauty. I am. Temporarily inebriated whilst my senses absorb the colors.

And this morning, as I rounded the corner on my way to the oyster-shelled stairs that lead to the ramp that points to my daily perch, one such moment occurred when the blues and the greens and the yellows of an 8:26 a.m. sun just about knocked me over.

The water was like glass, unbroken, as of yet, by the comings and goings of boats. The air was warm, yes, but with the freshness of a new day. And the birds called down from the trees, buzzing and humming with their songs of salutation.

I opened my lawn chair, happy to be early on this particular morning, and sat. So quiet and so still.

So full of color.

Totally alive and present.

Completely connected to the life around me.

Life Was Beginning

Posted on June 21, 2011 by Krista

On the bookshelves,

that line the walls,

in this old room of mine,

sits a copy of The Great Gatsby.

I read it for the first time in Mrs. Hamm’s English class. Junior year. Hilton Head Prep School. It’s worn out and marked up–just like all my books. Lined with ink marks and littered with post-its.

Side note: I came 2.25 inches away from buying a Kindle the other day but just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I felt like I was cheating on my books. How could I ever face them again?!–knowing I was a shameful, scarlet lettered adulteress. The shame!

So anyway, back to the books.

If I love a book, I can’t help but mark it. I underline, dog-ear, and bookmark with wild abandon. You know–so I can go back and re-read the bestest parts over and over. If the words fit prettily, I salivate. If an author, in his expertise, provides a particularly clever and inspiring description of a scene or a character or a place, I find myself twirling inside, applauding their genius, and soaking every. black. letter. into my cells.

Ah the written word.

So back to The Great Gatsby.

One sentence,

in that delicious book,

one that I think of every year on this date,

one that seems particularly fitting as I sit here miles away from home at home, scratching at my cocoon from the inside,

reads…

“And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees … I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.”

[sigh]

How true.

Oh, may I say,

on this first day of summer,

Hello new life!

Welcome!

May I raise my glass to the sun and toast the days that wait just down the lane with nothing but open arms.

Cheers to you!

And may you, and me, and we, embrace boldly and joyfully, the promises of this,

particular,

wonderful,

summer.

New life indeed!

—————————————

In honor of the first day of summer, I want to share my peony with you. I planted her last Fall and worried terribly about her life expectancy. She was dreadfully thin. Skin and bones, and nothing more. But when the snow of winter melted, she stretched her limbs and feathered herself with leaves. A tiny bud appeared one day, sitting royally atop her head like the Queen Mum’s crown. And as I left Utah, I frowned at the thought of leaving her. Pitiful, but true–she was on my list of reasons why I didn’t want to leave the desert.

But true to form, as resident best friend, Frit has kept me supplied with pictures of her birth. Last night we Skyped (because we miss each other so), and she carried me out to the backyard so I could peer through the digital screen, wide-eyed at the brilliance of my lovely bloom.

(I think I can officially cross #55 off the list of 101 Things to Do in 1001 Days.)

Farewell to Summer: Our Latest Dinner Party

Posted on September 29, 2010 by Krista

It all began with an email that read:

Sept. 9, 2010

Dearest Cookie (a.k.a. Frit),
Did you realize that the last day of Summer is this month? Well, it is. The 21st of September to be exact. And so I propose … a dress up dinner party hostessed by toi et moi (that’s “you and me” in French. I learned that the other day when I was watching my French subtitled movie from Netflix On Demand). A “Farewell to Summer” dinner party if you will.
What do you think? Invite 4 ladies, dresses required, and fancy to boot?
Fondly,
Kristafer

The reply to which, was:

Dear Cookie. Stop.

Though I am saddened to hear that summer will be departing, I think a dinner party in honor of the warm days is a splendid idea.

Sincerely. Cordially. And affectionately.

Frit

And so. A guest list was finalized, a plan was outlined, and invitations were mailed.

(Sidenote: I illustrated the banner on our invitations which you are free to download here if you would like use it in the future. Simply paste into a Word document or other editing program, type in your party info, and print. *Remember–it’s for personal use only. Please do not sell my illustration or anything made from my illustration. Stealing makes me sad.)

When the twenty-first arrived, I was beside myself with anticipation and began the day busily making final preparations … ironing the linens, polishing the silverware, gathering supplies for the centerpieces, preparing an assortment of foods. But when I went to hang the bistro lights on the patio outside, I found the bees were out in full force and I knew there was no way we would enjoy a relaxing dinner with all the buzzing in our backyard. I could foresee the swatting and cowering with a final mad dash back into the house, plates in hand, my lovely table abandoned.

And that, my friends, is why you must always have a Plan B when hostessing a party.

I moved the party inside and while the decor wasn’t what I’d originally envisioned (that is, buntings and lights hanging from the trellis to match the invitations I’d drawn) it still turned out perfectly.

I used a white tablecloth as my base, with two pinky-peach runners laid across the width of the table on each end. On top of that I placed a hand-laced square overlay that I found while on a holiday in Scotland. I also arranged an assortment of glassware around the table and placed tea-lights in each.

For the centerpieces, I bought three bouquets from the grocer: 1 dozen peach roses, 6 stems of pink snap dragons, and a handful of yellow wildflower fillers, to divide and arrange between three vases filled with water and clear glass stones. I then wrapped each vase (2 of which were mason jars) with hemp twine and tied with a loose bow.

As for place settings, I used large white dinner plates, chartreuse linen napkins with silverware to the sides (knife and spoon on the right, fork on the left … in case you wondered), beveled glass bowls for the dinner rolls, stemmed glasses for iced water and mason jars for lemonade. It was summer casual meets simple elegance.

Place cards were printed with each person’s name and various quotes about summer including …

The summer night is like a perfection of thought. ~Wallace Stevens

In summer, the song sings itself. ~William Carlos Williams

A life without love is like a year without summer. ~Swedish Proverb

Summer afternoon – summer afternoon; to me those have always been the two most beautiful words in the English language. ~Henry James

Sun is shining. Weather is sweet. Make you wanna move your dancing feet. ~Bob Marley

On the menu we had:

Grilled Marinated Chicken

(halved chicken breasts soaked in a mixture of olive oil, sparkling cider, lemon juice, dijon mustard, and basil for 3 hours and then grilled up on the George Foreman)

Warm Garlic String Beans

(blanch 1-pound of string beans for 2 minutes. Return to a saucepan with 3 tablespoons olive oil, 1 tablespoon butter, 4 cloves of garlic minced, 3 tablespoons lemon juice, 1/2 teaspoon salt, and a 1/4 teaspoon black pepper. Cook about 4 minutes over medium-high heat. Toss in 2 tablespoons chopped flat-leaf parsley and 1 tablespoon grated lemon zest. Serve warm.)

Lemon Rice Pilaf

(prepare rice and risotto as instructed on packaging but substitute 1/4 of the water with fresh lemon juice, add herbs as desired. Sprinkle with chopped parsley when served.)

Fresh Corn and Tomato Salad

Dinner Rolls from Sego Lily Cafe in Bountiful

(the rolls are worth the drive from anywhere, but the Butternut Squash Ravioli will put you over the edge.)

with my Citrus Tart for dessert

It was a light, fresh meal–a perfect etude of summer.

In attendance we had the lovely and talented Brooke, a long-time friend who immediately came to mind when we began planning. (And just so you know, you should totally download her new CD. Tracks 3 and 6 are my faves.)

As well as the beautiful Misses Kelly and LuAnn, who drove all the way from American Fork (an hour away) to have dinner with us. Kelly was a blog reader I had never met–I drew her name from those who emailed interest in coming when I extended the invitation to all of you readers. She brought her mother LuAnn as her guest and as soon as they walked in, they felt like old friends. They own Lu Kels, a darling online boutique (speaking of…I’ve got my eye on the red 3-button cadet cap. Isn’t it fantastic?!) and were so fun to meet. It was honestly a perfect group of people.

Our dear neighbor Paula was also on the guest list but had to cancel last minute due to her twin babes being sick. This was sad news for many reasons. First, Paula is down-right hilarious and fun to have around. Second, we would have loved to give her a night away from the kids. And third, Paula is an amazing violinist and we’d asked her to bring her violin to favor us with a mini concert. But no matter, we took her a plate of deliciousness later that night and kept her at the top of the list for the next dinner party.

And as for the concert, we still had plenty of entertainment. Brooke and I each sang a couple of songs and that in and of itself made my whole night. Singing around the piano with friends is balm to the soul.

I honestly had the most wonderful evening–meeting new friends, sitting with old ones, sharing food and laughter. That’s the reason I love to hostess. Nourishment in every way. I hoped our guests knew how grateful we were that they came. And if they didn’t, we gave them a jar of homemade peach jam to remind them.

(Thank you so much Brookie, Kelly, and LuAnn. You’re all so wonderful and Frit and I had the most fantastic time with you. xoxo)

And now? I’m just scheming for the next party. Can’t wait!

+++

Stay in touch…

Facebook

Twitter

Subscribe to the feed

an Invitation … [Farewell to Summer: A Ladies' Dinner]

Posted on September 15, 2010 by Krista

This weekend I did a lot of thinking.

And in the midst of that thinking I received a few emails and comments from strangers who read this here blog. Kind comments. Thankful emails. The kind of emails and comments that make me grateful for this big world (that isn’t so big).

Now, I’ve always known there were strangers reading, and I’ve received comments and an occasional email from someone I don’t know. But by and large, the majority of people I hear from are friends. (Hi friends! xo!) So this weekend, to have received such a high volume of notes from strangers was both curious and heart-warming.

It made me really think about who is reading. And it made me want to throw one big whopping party and force you all to come so that I can get to know each one of you. I mean really. Really. This weekend, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Who you are. Where you live. What you like. What’s important to you. What you want most. What makes you happy. What makes you sad. If you’re struggling. Or if you’re epically happy. I just wanted to know you. And while I totally understand the urge to stop by here to read and simply stay silent (it’s what I do most often when I read other people’s blogs), I’d honestly and sincerely like to invite you to tell me who you are. Tell me something about yourself. Anything. Tell me lots or tell me a little. And if you have a blog or a site, please please please leave me the link. I really really really want to know you.

And in the spirit of parties … while I can’t throw one, big party for you all to come to, I do want to extend an invitation. Frit and I are hostessing a small, ladies dinner next Tuesday, Sept. 21 in honor of the last day of summer and I have reserved two places at the table for someone who reads this blog to come (with a guest) and join us. I wish I had a bigger table and could invite more. Then again, maybe no one will want to come (ha!) and this will turn out to be a totally embarrassing idea. But if this sounds like fun (and it will be) and if you need a night out sans children or husband or homework or work or dishes or whatever it is you need to leave behind, please leave a comment or send me an email. In the event that more than one person wants to come, I’ll randomly draw a name at the end of the week.

(The invitations … )

Lastly, I thought you might like to know that my next segment on Good Things Utah is tomorrow at 10 a.m. MST. Tune in to ABC4 if you can. I’ll be demonstrating how to make a chic boutique-quality clutch from a placemat. Seriously.

Oh, and like I said … Quiet readers are always welcome so feel free to stay silent. But I’d also love to get to know you. So if you feel inclined, do leave a note and tell me a little something about you. I can’t wait to meet you.

Much love,

Krista

Tomato-Corn Salad: A Cool Summer Recipe

Posted on July 19, 2010 by Krista

On Friday night Frit and I went to a dinner party set up by the Activity Committee at Church. Every couple months we sign up to be part of “Dinner Groups” and then we’re randomly paired with two other families in our congregation. Sometimes we hostess (yippee!), other times we’re guests, and we’ve so enjoyed getting to know some of the other families better.

This month we were paired with two semi-retired couples with lots of grandkids. It was such a fun night with story after story and plenty of laughter. Brother Rigby even gave us the inside scoop on some of his favorite fishing holes. “It’s a dandy,” he said, referring to a particular spot near Deer Creek.

Dandy. Now that is a word I’m going to be using more frequently. I’d say we all ought to try and get its use back in regular rotation.

So for the dinner, we were assigned a side dish and dessert. I’d seen a picture of a this salad on my old writing group leader’s site and knew I’d love it. I added a couple ingredients to her recipe, and it was so fast, easy, light and fresh. I thought you might like to try it too. It’s a dandy.

Tomato-Corn Salad

(serves 8)

10 minutes prep, 60 minutes chill (optional)

5 ears of corn
5 Roma tomatoes
4 bunches green onions
1/4 c extra virgin olive oil
feta cheese to taste
avocado to taste

1. Boil corn for about 5 minutes and cut from ears.

2. While corn is boiling dice tomatoes (not too small) and slice onions (I just cut mine with kitchen shears).

3. Combine corn, tomatoes, and onions in serving bowl.

4. Drizzle ingredients in bowl with olive oil.

5. Add feta cheese and toss.

6. Chill for at least one hour. (This is ideal but it’s no biggie if you don’t have time.)

7. Slice avocado just before serving and arrange on top.

Notes:

You can easily change the proportion of ingredients. It’s all really just to taste. I was also thinking next time, I’d like to try adding a bit of fresh basil. And of course you could add some black beans and either still serve it as a side salad or with chips as a salsa option.

Enjoy!

Tell me: Do you have a go-to easy summer recipe? If so, please email it to me or put the link to it in the comments below. I’m always looking for good recipes!

+++

Stay in touch…

Facebook

Twitter

Subscribe to the feed

Early Morning Fishing: A Summer Must

Posted on July 13, 2010 by Krista

Last week Frit had a day off work and we used her free morning to drive up into the Uintas for an early morning fishing trip. We woke before the sun, packed a cooler, loaded our gear, and were on our way as light made its way up over the horizon.

After an hour winding through the mountains, we hiked down a hill, past fields of blue bells, and over a tiny stream to a trail that wound around a sleeping lake. It was calm and quiet. In other words, it was perfection.

A few other fishermen were already perched at their stoops and kindly told us that the fishing was good. Not that that mattered to us. We never catch anything anyway, even if everyone else does. But that’s not why we go. We go for the calm. And the quiet.

The colors were deep and saturated, I remember. Plump with hue, the lake and sky volleyed their finest features back and forth, spilling over onto everything in their blue-green reach. And once the sun was high, her bright white yellow mingled gold and sparkling, chasing the shadows of night back into hiding.