Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Baby makes three!

Chloe’s Birth Story

Soon after celebrating our positive pregnancy test in June 2011, Liam and I began discussing our options for having a natural birth while living in Korea. We discussed the idea of returning to the US for the birth, since we were both instinctively more comfortable with the idea of hiring a midwife and doing a home birth, and had no idea if that was possible here. We were both born to moms who home-birthed all of their kids and had shared their positive birth stories with us over the years. And of course, Liam's mom actually is a midwife! We knew we didn’t want to be in a hospital where we might be pressured into the medicalized version of birth.

I started doing some internet research to see if we had any options for staying in Korea, which would be easier on our work schedules (and budget), and quickly found the website for Birthing in Korea, a doula service based in Seoul. After getting in touch with Lisa, the head doula, I felt reassured that our birthing vision was possible, though limited to a few places in and around Seoul, unless we did a home birth. We both felt like our small apartment in Ulsan was not conducive to a comfortable home birth, so we needed to find a good birthing center. On a suggestion from Lisa, we visited Mediflower birthing center and immediately felt that it was the right place. It was a small, friendly, professional setting – the ob/gyn clinic and birthing center felt much like a modern, welcoming spa. We liked the doctor and nurses, and felt assured that they were progressive and fully supported natural births. I especially liked that they encouraged water birth, and just felt a positive, grounded sense of peace from the setting and people. So, we decided to hire Lisa as our doula, and to go with Mediflower for our prenatal care and birth.
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Our birth story begins on February 7, 2012, at the apartment in Seoul where we had moved temporarily. I was 39 weeks pregnant, and had been hoping that the baby would decide to arrive a little early. I woke up at 6:30 am with a feeling that something was happening, and when I used the toilet, realized that I had some “bloody show” which was a sign our doula had said might signal the beginning of labor. I felt a rush of excitement, but also wondered if I was getting ahead of myself…so I got back in bed and tried to sleep. Of course, my mind was racing and I couldn’t stop thinking…this could be IT! I didn’t want to wake Liam up, since if it was the big day, he’d need plenty of rest to be my support. So I got up, had some breakfast, and tried to relax. As I sat at the kitchen table, I was feeling practice surges (Braxton-Hicks contractions), which had become normal for me over the previous couple of weeks. I timed a few and they were about 22-25 minutes apart. Since they were coming regularly, I decided to call Lisa, our doula, to update her. She said it sounded like I might be in early labor and she recommended that I rest, eat well, take a bath, but that active labor could still be a couple days off.

At about 9:30 I found Liam had awoken, and filled him in – we decided I should take a bath and focus on relaxing. I soaked in the hot bath for almost an hour, and it was wonderfully calming. The surges were coming around 20 minutes apart, but were light and not painful, just a little uncomfortable. After the bath, I called my parents and they gave me some encouragement and were really excited to hear the baby might be coming soon. In an effort to boost my courage, they shared stories of my own birth – a great story I’ve heard dozens of times, but which took on new meaning once I was pregnant. It was a beautiful home birth at our “cabin” in the Oregon woods, and their positive memories have always instilled me with a powerful sense of confidence for my own birthing experience. Soon after our phone call, I noticed that the surges were getting stronger, and I was feeling nauseous. We talked to Lisa again, and she encouraged me to keep up my strength by eating “like you’re going to run a marathon”…plenty of light carbs and no spicy foods. After eating a light lunch, we went for a walk to get some fresh air and because I knew walking could encourage my labor to progress. It was freezing cold, probably 25 degrees F, and we almost turned back, but I’m glad we didn’t. The fresh air was invigorating, and the nausea went away. We walked around our neighborhood for about 30 minutes, and my surges were getting strong enough that I had to stop and hold onto something as I breathed deeply and slowly. The pain was concentrated at the bottom of my belly, feeling like extremely strong menstrual cramps. At the surge’s peak my entire abdomen would swell up until it was rock hard. The timing was erratic, sometimes 20 minutes apart, sometimes 5 minutes. Thankfully, I could walk easily and comfortably between the surges. I remember looking at people passing us by and thinking, “they have no idea that I’m in labor right now!” It was possibly such a momentous day for us, and yet just another typical day for them. We ducked into a café to get out of the cold, and both ordered hot chocolates. My surges were getting more frequent and regular, around 15 minutes apart. The café was very calm and quiet, and as I sat sipping the rich chocolate I just breathed through the surges, trying to calm my nerves. As they got stronger, I was feeling more anxious about the increasing level of discomfort, though I was actively reminding myself of all our preparation and confidence we gained from learning breathing and relaxation techniques.

Upon walking back to the apartment, around 5:00 pm, I thought another bath would help me get calm and focused. In the tub, the hot water was calming, but the surges were coming on very strong…it seemed like they had ramped up in strength after our walk. As I was soaking, the cat was very interested in what was going on, and kept trying to climb down and drink or smell the water. He’s done that before, but it seemed especially comical with me breathing through strong surges, and fending off a crazy curious cat at the same time. I was pushing my feet against the tub during the peak of each surge, which helped relieve the pressure on my abdomen…but right at the height of a big one my foot actually popped through the tub’s shell! I was shocked and started laughing in amazement…was I really that strong?! Or was it just a totally weak bathtub? Since that put an end to my soak, I got into bed with the intention of trying to rest, but I couldn’t get comfortable. Each surge was harder than the last and I moved into different positions, trying to find relief. Hands and knees, lying on my back, on my side, standing and leaning against a wall…nothing seemed to help. I was getting increasingly stressed. I was also feeling nauseous and dizzy. Liam was making some dinner and encouraged me to come eat. I sat down at the kitchen table and ate a little bit – some fruit smoothie and a little bit of homemade pizza. But I had no appetite, and the nausea was strong. I timed a few surges and they were 7 minutes apart, lasting almost a minute. After trying to lie down again, I immediately jumped out of bed and threw up all over the bedroom floor. Liam came in and helped me get cleaned up, and said he thought it might be time to head to the birthing center. I timed a few more surges and they were 5 minutes apart, lasting one minute. Lisa called around that time, and when she heard the update, agreed that it was time to go to Mediflower. She thought getting there would help calm me down too, since I was getting overly stressed and having trouble focusing on my relaxation techniques. I remember feeling worried that my surges were so powerful, that if the labor was long, 24 hours or more, I wasn’t sure how I could make it. But I tried not to dwell on that thought…and reminded myself to surrender to my birthing body, to go with the flow of whatever happens. As Liam went downstairs to fetch a cab, I tried to get into a relaxed, confident state of mind, thinking of the baby, and of my strong body, and telling myself to release my worries and trust my instincts. At about 9:30 pm, we grabbed our overnight bags, and headed out for the journey across the city.

Next section is written from Liam’s point of view:

After gathering our things and recruiting some Korean teenage girls to hold a cab for me outside of the apartment (this is what I was anxious about beforehand, as the language barrier is a constant challenge for us), I went back to the apartment and guided Jessie into the elevator and downstairs into the cab. It was a long and challenging ride for her (and me) but she kept cool and breathed through the surges nicely. (Jessie: this was extremely difficult, and I summoned all my strength to make it through that long bumpy cab ride without screaming! I knew if I could stay calm, it would help to keep us both from getting panicky)

Upon getting to Mediflower at about 10:15pm, she threw up again in the back street behind the clinic. However, her mind was in a good place and she started to relax, with my help, as we made our way inside. We were shown to our comfortable birthing room by the nurse and Jessie laid down on her left side on the bed. Lisa showed up with another doula trainee, Michelle, at 10:30 as the nurse began some fetal monitoring. Surges were about 2-3 minutes apart at this point. Jessie was trembling very strongly, so Lisa and Michelle held her tightly and tried to calm her down with slow breathing. They said the shaking was probably from all the adrenaline pumping through her body. At 11:00, Danaka, the midwife, checked Jessie and said she was already 7 cm dilated. We were all surprised that her cervix was so dilated already. (Jessie: I wasn’t surprised…those surges over the past couple hours were serious business and I was relieved to have progressed so much).

We spent another half hour in the birthing room, with Jessie standing and swaying as she leaned on Lisa through surges. At 11:30, we made our way to the large birthing tub just down the hall. This room was calm, warm and peaceful, with low lighting and candles all around. We had brought our ipad and it was set to play ocean sounds, as Jessie had requested. Once in the warm water, Jessie laid back into an inclined prone position, with me in the tub behind her. She leaned against me and grabbed my legs and hands during surges. The doulas were on either side of the tub encouraging Jessie, and I was saying soothing words to her, feeding her ice cubes and cooling her forehead with an ice soaked towel after each surge. At 11:50 Lisa told Jessie to start breathing down (Jessie: this was a hypnobirthing breathing method to gently move the baby down. The surges felt really intense at this point, but the water was incredibly soothing and I could relax nicely between surges).

At 12:10 am Lisa and Danaka encouraged Jessie to push slightly. Danaka checked her at 12:20 and she was fully dilated. After a couple more surges she got into a kneeling position, facing me, and everyone left the room so we could have some private time. We talked a little bit and I told her how strong she was, and that I was so proud of her. She had a couple of difficult surges with just us two there, and then the doulas and midwife returned. Jessie and the midwife could both feel the baby's head at this point, so Lisa asked her to get into a squatting position and to really bear down during her contractions, to take a deep breath in and push rather than breath out. She did that about three times, and on the third surge, Danaka urged her to take a deep breath in, then hold her breath a bit and push. This really got things moving!

Lisa quickly made sure that I wanted to catch our baby and as her head was starting to crown, I reached and held it. The midwife was manipulating the baby’s body as she slid the rest of the way out and with a couple big pushes, her tiny body came swimming into in my hands, underwater. At this point it was 1:45am on February 8. The midwife and I both lifted the baby out of the water and I held her for a few moments. I was in a bit of a daze; I just remember her pliable wet skin on my hands and then I placed her on Jessie's chest once she was in a seated position against the tub. I remember laughing and giddily saying to Jessie, "You did it! You did it! Here's the baby!" I then stepped out of the tub and just touched Jessie and the baby as Dr Chung, who had arrived at that point, and the midwife checked the baby, never moving her from Jessie’s chest. The doctor encouraged us to feel the umbilical cord pulsating. After it stopped, the midwife clamped it and I cut the cord. (Jessie: We were so elated at this point. I felt a huge wave of relief and happiness wash over me as I pushed the baby out. It stung pretty badly, and I was sure I was tearing, but I didn’t, thank goodness. Probably helped that I was in warm water and in the squatting position – that’s exactly how I wanted to be positioned when the baby crowned. Also, I remember Danaka getting in my face, making me focus, and saying” Jessica think of your perineum! Breathe like this…hha hha hha hha”…and I did that in short fast breaths. When they put the baby on my chest it was the most amazing feeling of awe. I was actually kind of stunned to feel her. After all that effort I had almost lost track of the idea that I would feel and see her at the end. I remember thinking she felt wet and slick, and it reminded me of how a baby seal might feel! I gazed at her big eyes that were looking up at me and felt such a huge surge of joy, it was overwhelming.)

After moving back to our birthing room, Dr Chung checked the baby over a bit more thoroughly now – she weighed 3.64 kg (8 lbs, 2 oz), and measured 51 cm (20 in) with a head circumference of 35 cm. I held the baby while the doctor and midwife assisted delivering the placenta. (Jessie: It surprised me how painful it was to birth the placenta, but it was over quickly. The doctor showed it to us and I was amazed to see this incredible organ that was our baby’s life source for so many months). We talked with Dr Chung for a bit, and he congratulated us on what had been an uncomplicated, great birth experience. With a warm smile, he told Jessie that she was very strong and if we were to have another child, she was a perfect candidate for home birth; that she didn’t need a doctor, rather to go with a good midwife and doula at home. And that from a doctor! Lisa and Michelle helped get Jessie started with breastfeeding, and we were happy to see the baby had a good latch and strong suckling instinct. Within an hour, we were left alone in the calm bedroom, to bond with and admire our healthy, beautiful baby, who we named Chloe Agnes Jean.

Thursday, December 16, 2010

Yes, we are new in town.


Where does the time go? It's been over a year since we have written anything in this blog. Liam is busy working now, and since I'm not (yet), and have some free time, I figured I'd add a new post. The open-ended journey continues, and we now find ourselves living in South Korea, in the southern coastal city of Ulsan. Sometimes life here can feel quite "normal" and cozy, like we could be almost anywhere, shopping for groceries, taking out the trash, going for a walk in the park, riding the bus across town. Usually it doesn't take long for some experience to jolt me back to the reality that I stick out like a sore thumb and I feel awkwardly like the foriegner that I am. Not an entirely bad realization, just an invigorating, bewildering jolt every now and then.

One of the most positive of these experiences happened last week when I stopped by the dry cleaners to pick up our clean items. While I was attempting to balance my bags of previously bought groceries and clean clothes on hangers in my arms in preparation for the short walk home, the old man who runs the dry cleaners rushed outside and wordlessly grabbed everything out of my hands, piling it all into his nearby car. Without even removing his apron and face mask, he started up the engine and insisted on driving me and my load back to my apartment, which was really only about 3 blocks away. He spoke almost no english, but smiled and nodded emphatically as I thanked him for delivering me at my doorstep. What a gentleman. That has never happened to me in the states.

Another strange and wonderful experience occured when I went to see a doctor about some recurring lower back pain. (Side note: with our Korean health insurance plan, I paid just eight dollars for a visit to the physical therapist - including x-rays, meeting with doctor, physical therapy, and a short dose of painkiller drugs. Talk about affordable health care!)

So, doctor's appointment over, I found my way to the pharmacy to fill my prescription. The pharmacist, a smiling, crinkly eyed, old man in an argyle sweater, hands me my pills, and explains, in lengthy Korean, when and for how long I should take them. He then reaches for my right hand and massages my palm and upper ligaments, looking into my eyes and asking (i'm certain i could "read" it in his eyes) if particular pressure points were affecting the pain in my lower back. It felt so comforting and relieving to have him rub my hand, and I stood there, confused but transfixed, wishing that I could comprehend what he was saying. I tried willing myself to understand Korean, but no luck. Everybody in the pharmacy stopped and watched as he massaged the western lady's hand over the formica counter and inquired about various pressure points. Once he determined one point was more effective than another, by my enthusiastic nods, he taped three tiny metal balls to the spot on my hand and pressed them hard into the flesh between my ligaments. It felt strange and wonderful, and indeed, sent shivers of relaxation down my spine. He smiled and said (at least I think he said) to leave the tape on for the rest of the evening. I paid 2,300 won (about two dollars), thanked him with a grateful smile, and floated happily back into the wintery city streets.

Yet another experience, not nearly as friendly, occured yesterday, when I went for a swim at our local public pool. After getting chastised by the lifeguard for not wearing a swim cap - i haven't learned my lesson that everyone wears swim caps in Korean pools, even bald men - I had to fight my way through hordes of naked "Ajummas" in the steaming shower room. An ajumma is a Korean old woman - you frequently hear people use the term the way we would use "ma'am". After showering, I walked over to my locker to towel off and change...and that's where I went oh so amiss! According to a blog about living in Korea, (http://www.itsalwayssunnyinsouthkorea.com/cultural-lessons-from-an-evil-ajuma), "Korean culture accords automatic virtue and respect to anyone who is older than you, particularly grandparents and the elderly. It’s common knowledge that when an ajumma tells you to move, you move. If she pushes you off a bus, jabs you with her walking stick, shoves you out of the way on an elevator or barks an order at you, you are supposed to obey. She’s old and deserves respect, after all."

And yes, I have been shoved and elbowed by some pretty nasty old ajummas in bus lines or at the grocery store if I happened to be where they want to be. So, back to the pool locker room - a particularly loud and bossy ajumma starts shouting at me across the locker room, apparently horrified that I had the nerve to drip water on the locker room floor. How dare I drip after showering!? The old bat, I mean ajumma, follows me to my locker, harassing me in Korean the whole way, and gets in my face and rails at me as I'm trying to change, um, discretely. I'm feeling a little annoyed at this point, and turning around, give her a big shrug and nasty look, as if to say "you want to make something of it?!" She finally backed away, grumbling to any other old ajummas who cared. I left in a hurry and shook it off.

Can't please everyone here as a clumsy westerner. Lesson learned - I'll just smile profusely at the sweet old men, and steer clear of the ajumma bullies. If she knew I used to knock around ladies three times her size in Roller Derby, she might think twice about messin' with me...

Till next time, happy adventuring to all!

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

You can't take it with you...?


J-cat on the keypad:

So the rockabilly/punk song goes..."You can't take it with you".  As I was standing in the cold night air, huddled behind the Aggie Theater in Ft. Collins, Colorado, the lyrics about what is really important in life made me smile.  Kind of cliche, kind of trite, but also pretty right on.  My good friend from way back in Santa Cruz, Anatola, knew just what I was thinking since we'd been having these conversations for a while, trying to figure out what is really important in life...? Spending time with close friends like her, for one, and listening to great music from our teen years, like Social Distortion, who was ripping it on that new song at the crowded Aggie.  

Social D's lyrics and my time reminiscing and talking about future ideas with Anatola inspired a series of thoughts over the next several weeks of our trip, most of which are somehow related to our travel experiences though I am still trying to figure out all the connections and whether there is an overall lesson.  During this phase of travel, we drove from Colorado to Utah, camped and hiked in Zion National Park, made a pit stop in Las Vegas, hung out in Los Angeles, drove up to Santa Cruz, and then flew up to Seattle to re-visit the beautiful Pacific NW.  Since then we've driven and taken trains down the coast from Victoria BC to Seattle to Portland, and we are now in Humboldt County, California.  Liam and I are both feeling energized by being "back out west", and we have thrown around many ideas about how to meld our desire for adventure and travel with an inclination to bond with family and friends.  Visits with people all over the country have got us thinking about lifestyle choices and how to find long-term satisfaction....and that got me thinking about Wendell Barry.

There is an essay by Barry in the collection entitled "What Are People For?" in which he writes about the evolution of family roles and the way family interacts with society. He wonders about the negative aspects of mobility and unrootedness in modern life...he seems to suggest that a more rooted, community-focused lifestyle would do better by our children and offer us adults a more grounded, communal existence. Though I was initially turned off by his patriarchal tone, so much of what he talks about resonates with me lately.  I think about the supportive community of friends and family in Fayetteville and how I felt like somebody would be there for me if I got sick, if I lost my job, or just needed someone with whom to walk and talk. It's common in Fayetteville, and probably in many other small towns and tight-knit neighborhoods, for friends to band together around somebody who had become sick or just needed help. Several times during my four years living there, I attended benefit concerts, poetry readings, and potlucks in support of a friend or friend's child who needed help, be it physically, emotionally or financially. One of the most touching and beautiful examples of this was the network of loving friends, including my mother and father-in-law, who grouped around Nick and Ginny Masullo. Nick was an incredibly blessed person in too many ways to name and he left this world too soon...but from my perspective, I found it wonderful that he had fostered such deep friendships with people in his life, friends who would do anything for him and Ginny and lent a helping hand during the last years he was with us. Similarly, my parents and a close group of Santa Cruz friends took loving care of our family friend Geno in his last months.  I can only hope to have such a loving support system.  

Having reflected on all that, I am getting to a point that has been brewing in my head for weeks now:  We ALL need that kind of loving support system, we really do, no matter how independent and self-sufficient we think we are.  **We are not islands!**  I am a very private person, but our travels are teaching me something: We are social creatures who need community and are enriched by diverse friendships and family interactions.  Even when those interactions are difficult or painful, it is up to us to generously put ourselves out there and offer support, or maybe to know when we need to accept support.  This is the kind of energy I want to take with me in the long run.  And, like it or not, this "support of the soul" is not going to come from your bank account or your job. I don't count on either of those to be around and give me a comforting hug when I'm old and gray. And since I'm working on that every year (thanks for the early-gray genes, Mom!), this issue seems to come to the forefront of my thoughts and discussions with Liam and others, particularly along this fantastic journey of continual uprootedness!  

All of this is still simmering in my thought-process, and it hasn't led us down one particular path or another.  But, Liam and I are asking questions of ourselves about how to deal with modern life...how do we create a lifestyle that has a more communal feeling...how do we draw in the skills and experience offered by so many of our friends and family members? We are freshly re-aquainted with our "network", spread all over the place, and I am feeling inspired about the possibilities. 

This inspiration is leading me to think that one of the most precious things you CAN take with you is the love and generous energy you have shared with family and friends, or even with a stranger in need.  Such caring actions or words create concentric circles of good energy that ripple on through the years, and these warm memories will stay with you forever (at least as long as you can remember)  Back to this journey and how it all relates:  beyond a practical need to seek job opportunities, one of the primary motivations to start this long adventure and leave our cocoon of comfort in Fayetteville was to offer our energy and design/construction/landscaping skills to my parents in their relocation to Hawaii.  Our time of transition offers us the opportunity to help my parents in their time of transition, so to speak.  We began the process two years ago with my design drawings and then Liam, my brother Elijah, his girlfriend Karla, and my mom and dad all pitched in to build the house frame and make the land livable. There is still a lot more to do in order to get my parents moved in to their tropical abode and I'm excited to arrive and get to work for them.  We've been traveling for almost 2 1/2 months now, and while the continual excitement of being on the road is still enticing, I'm ready to settle in for a while and give back some love and support to my family.  It should be a great project, and I know it'll make for some lovely memories that I will take with me.

ps - we are flying out to Hawaii in one week!...If you're looking to get ahold of us, that's where we will be for at least the next 3 months, same ol' cell phones should work fine.  Aloha to all :)

Saturday, October 3, 2009

To the Pacific




Lee-dog on the Mic:

We're now sitting in Casey Andrews and Lisette Polny's cozy living room, where we've been sleeping for the last few nights. We zoomed into L.A. three days ago, on the evening of Sep. 30. Memories sparked by familiar geography entered my consciousness as we drove out of Las Vegas and into the desert. Driving toward Pasadena, I remembered my time here 10 years ago. This is my first time back to L.A. since living here just after college.

Backing up a bit to our stay in Colorado, I'll give a brief overview. We spent a couple of nights in Denver with Dan, Michelle, and Claire Nesson. What a treat--and what a little sweetheart Claire is. Brother Ben met us at Dan's, and I soon gave Jessie a ride up to Fort Collins, where she visited with Anatola and Brent Swan (old Santa Cruz pals) for a few days. Meanwhile Ben and I headed to Buena Vista for some time in the Arkansas River Valley. Ben and I chilled, went for a hike to Ptarmigan Lake, sipped beer, and partied in downtown BV before I headed back to Fort Collins to catch up with the Californians. After hanging with Jessie, Tola and their boys at Oktoberfest, Brent and I had an awesome day fly fishing on the Big South River, a tributary of the Poudre.

Departing FC we were bound for the Pacific after a two night stay in Zion National Park--a truly enchanted, spectacular place. Jessie and I took a thrilling and vertigo-inducing eight mile hike to Observation Point, which overlooks Zion Canyon. A blustery night forced us to pack up our tent around midnight and sleep in the back of the car. The next morning we took a short hike and watercoloring expedition, and then jetted toward Vegas and L.A.

Now we're here, overlooking the San Fernando Valley from Casey and Lisette's Mulholland Drive bungalow. We're getting the true L.A. experience: a chic salon haircut for me, hiking in the mountains overlooking the valley and downtown, and trying on clothes at Lisette's fashionable "three dots" office.

Like trying on cool t-shirts, this trip is an opportunity for us to try on different places. We've been highly motivated to consider the questions: Where could we live? and What could we live with? We've reached conclusions about what type of habitat we'd enjoy. Walkability, tasty and eclectic dining, good music scene, an open-minded populous, educational opportunities, minimal reliance on the automobile--these are all attractive aspects of place. Areas where we differ: Jessie loves the energy of the big city (i.e. NYC and San Francisco); I like to visit these places but would prefer to live in a place where I can find a quicker and easier escape to the freedom of the natural landscape--and away from the madness of men and machines. We both loved Fort Collins; we both dislike Vegas. Parts of L.A. are fun, but the enormous sprawl and lack of easily accessible public transportation is uninviting. Seattle is great, a little large for my taste, but the mountains and ocean are only a short drive away.

Ultimately, though, I've come to the conclusion that the comfort of place is often more related to comfort with yourself and with those around you. And, we've encountered so many places on this trip where we've felt welcome, at home, and surrounded by loving friends and relatives. Additionally, we're very at ease with each other and continually adaptable. These qualities of place combined with our grounded, loving relationship allow me to conclude that we could truly make any number of places home. Thankfully, we have some exciting ideas for where that might be--The Big Island, The Pacific Northwest, The Front Range? Across the Pacific? Where will it be?

Luckily we have plenty of time to answer this question--and many adventures in between...

next post: Jessie shares a story of friendship and punk music in beautiful Colorado...

Sunday, September 20, 2009

So, where are you guys from?



Jessica here:

Since we last wrote, our travels have taken a decidedly westward bent and we've covered some serious ground in our little Subaru including a 14 hour trek from Ithaca, NY to Chicago...oy vey! A funny realization is now sinking in...we really are "homeless." No house, just a mobile concept of "home"....familiar music, food & scents create a comfort in each new spot. Of course, we chose this, and it feels quite liberating. Some things I miss...our kitty Zooey greeting us at the front door, a kitchen of our own, bed linens of our own. But...no house repairs, no mortgage, no daily routine...sweet freedom! The funny thing is, when asked where we're visiting from, the only logical answer is "that blue Subaru Outback". I get strange and annoyed looks, but, hey, makes me chuckle. Streamlined down to a small carload of stuff and a road atlas...I could get used to this, at least for a while.

At the moment, we're sipping coffee and munching the last of our NY bagels in Angie Head's cozy Chicago living room. Angie is a friend from way back in Fayetteville and we've appreciated her generosity despite a busy work schedule. She served up tasty red wine upon our arrival, much welcomed after navigating the hellacious nighttime highway thru Gary, IN. Next day we skipped the roads and travelled downtown on the awesome "EL". Chi-town has delighted us with sunny, warm weather and great lounging and strolling along the lakeshore. This is one of the few cities that neither Liam nor I have visited....it's pretty darn beautiful this time of year, though I'm thinking it'd be a different story come December.
So, backing up about three weeks, in an effort to represent all the great stops on our journey, we had an action-packed two weeks in NYC and Boston. Especially fun was leaving the car in NJ and travelling north by train. Dining car, reading, relaxing as the scenery whizzes past...I LOVE trains. Arriving in Brooklyn we were excited to catch up with Liam's cuz Sara who welcomed us into her lovely Carroll Gardens apartment. We dove right in to good NY chow at a nearby Thai restaurant....Tom Yum soup, yummm. Well nourished, we set off to walk across the magnificent Brooklyn Bridge...what an experience! Our gastronomical adventures continued with local microbrews at a Brooklyn pub and of course, a huge Coney Island hot dog, devoured with gusto by one very happy Liam. A highlight for me was rollerskating on the crazy little rink at Dreamland, right on the boardwalk at Coney Island. Despite the painful wound inflicted by their awful rental skates, I loved getting back on my wheels! Tried not to take out too many innocent children on my loops around the track...hehe. More highlights from NY include gin & tonics and jazz at the Carlyle for my birthday, walking through Chelsea and the West Village on the impressive Highline trail, hanging out with cousins Colene & Jeff on their midtown rooftop terrace, working the lanes at Brooklyn Bowl with cousins Chad and Sara, dancing to a blow-out show by Toots & the Maytals, and of course, chowing on ever-satisfyingly-cheesy-crusty NY pizza. Yummmmm.
After a week of thrills and spills in NYC, we hopped a train up to Boston and arrived at the comfy home of Liam's aunt Carol. We can't express enough thanks for Carol's generosity...gourmet lunches at Gloucester beach, BBQ picnic on labor day, tickets to see the Red Sox at Fenway Park!...such fun. Another beantown highlight: the extreme sport called "Bob Nesson's walking tour of Cambidge and Boston." Seriously, this was such a cool experience for us. History, geography, urban planning, film studies, landscape design...it was all inclusive and Uncle Bob knew we'd be up for the hike. I've always found Boston to be a confusing city to navigate, but the walking tour really established a great sense of the city's layout for me. Also got to see Aunt Kathe, albeit too briefly, for tasty Chinese fare and a fun discussion of Hawaiian Hula...next time I'm hoping for an extended dance lesson! So, the adventures continued with a train ride up to Beverly, Mass, about an hour north of Boston. We visited Uncle John and stayed up late talking about old times in the Conway family...so many cousins, stories, characters...somebody needs to write a book about this amazing family.
After a quick visit back to NJ and more great times with the Bowers family, we were on the road again...headed for upstate NY and a visit back to my alma mater, Cornell. Memories came flooding back from undergrad years...what a treat to share them with Liam. We rented bikes and tore all around town & campus, stopping to swim in waterfalls, hike the ravines, devour some Cornell Dairy ice cream, and hit up my old haunts in Collegetown. I was stunned all over again by the beauty of the area, enhanced by sunny weather and leaves just starting to turn yellow, red, orange....my goodness, the old cliche is true. Ithaca IS gorges. Got me thinking about settling down there, maybe having a home base?...but no, westward ho!!
next post: Chicago tales and Colorado stories...Pacific ocean, here we come!!!

Monday, September 14, 2009

Catching Up to the Start



Liam here...

As we comment on the succession of our experiences, we'll also backtrack to the start in order to create a more complete picture of our journey. Today we're in Beachwood, NJ staying with George and Margaret Ann Bowers, Jessie's uncle and aunt on her papa's side (Margaret Ann is Andy's sister). It's a slow, relaxed morning, as we stayed up late feasting on a fabulous meal George spent most of the day preparing: a hearty veggie lasagna, garden salad, garlic bread, and apple pie with vanilla ice cream. Thanks uncle George! Our cousins Jake & Ryan, along with their lovely ladies Diana and Robyn (respectively) were also present at the feast; boisterous laughter carried into the neighborhood around Beacon Avenue well into the night. Much thanks to the Bowers for the cheer and generosity. Tomorrow we're off on our trajectory westward but hopefully not before we get out on Barnegat Bay's gorgeous waters!
So, now for the backtracking part....we've just returned to NJ, where we left our Subaru in the Bowers' backyard for two weeks. Happily car-less, we traveled by train, bus, boat and on foot in and around New York City and Boston. We caught up with aunts, uncles, cousins & old friends, made new friends, and created lots of great memories. I thought we'd run through some of those memories here (a sort of online journal...) full of delectable meals, drinks, and music that we encountered from the start of our trip.

On August 15, following a heartwarming send-off dinner at Ralph and Kate's, we drove away from Fayetteville to the motivating beat of Thunder Road (pure serendipity that it popped up on our ipod shuffle...). After stopping to pick up a Yakima roof box, generously loaned by good friend Brandon Simmons, our loaded down Subaru crossed the Mississippi River over the DeSoto Bridge to Memphis, leaving sweet home Arkansas behind. After six hours of restless sleep in a run down Howard Johnsons near Blue Goose, TN, we were psyched to get back on the road to Ferrum, Virginia, home of our dear friend Allison Harl and her baby boy, Eli.
Allison directed us to take scenic and winding Shooting Creek Road into Ferrum, along which we were impressed by sweeping views and thickly verdant valley ravines. We were reminded of the views and "yokuls" of the Ozarks. Allison greeted us at the end of her driveway on Franklin Street with tiny Eli nestled in her arms; she and Jessica walked from the roadside to Allison's front porch. With a widespread smile, I drove down the drive to park the car. What a pleasure to see Allison taking so naturally to motherhood. Soon after our arrival, Eli fell asleep in his "old man" slumber, and we caught up over locally produced wine and a tasty spinach, garlic, and feta quiche that Allison baked. The next morning we looked after the surprisingly calm two-month-old Eli while Dr./Mama Harl went to an English Department faculty meeting of the soon-to-commence Ferrum College fall semester.

After three days in and around Ferrum highlighted by a Chateau Morrisette Winery tour, a gourmet potluck at Allison's with a great group of local friends, and a hike along the Pig River, we headed for Bowie, Maryland, just 4 hours northeast. We pit-stopped for a hike along the Appalachian Trail, jogging through warm rain on the return hike. Once we reached Bowie, a leafy suburb of Washingtion, DC, we poured out of the hot car to greet Clare and Bryson Spangler and some hefty, cold margaritas that Clare, awesome hostess that she is, had just blended. It was my birthday, a memorable 33rd on August 19. We were thrilled to catch up with Bryson and Clare on their back deck, while their 1 year old boy, Brodie, slept upstairs in his room. Bryson surprised us with a homemade chocolate cake, a thoughtful greeting from old friends. We reminisced about previous fun times, from years past in Seattle and Alaska as we sipped maragaritas. Remembrance with old friends is the best kind.

The few days around the DC area were filled with walking, talking, pictures on The Mall, and eating ice cream. Unfortunately Bryson got sick moments into a delicious blue crab feast; he had to retire for the evening and after midnight Clare took the poor chap to the emergency room for some reviving fluids. However, he was happy to know his misery didn't keep us from a fun night chilling on their back deck, or from getting a fabulous lesson on the proper method of drinking scotch with Scotswoman Clare. Cheers for the hospitality Clare and Bryson! On this leg of the journey, we also caught up with my cousin Billy Young and his sweet girlfriend Rachel. He was about to start law school at George Washington U--a smart guy and an engaging conversationalist. Thanks for introducing us to your hip DC neighborhood, Billy and Rachel!

Saying goodbye to great friends, leaving Bowie, heading across the Chesapeake Bay into Delaware, we soon arrived at Primehook Beach. There we were greeted with beer and delicious honeydew melon after being led by Paul and Douglas down a short boardwalk to their Delaware Bay beachfront gazebo. A cool breeze blew as we caught up with Paul, Jessie's dad's best friend from college, and Douglas, Paul's partner. We were entertained by memories of Paul, Andy, and Pam and their gang cavorting around Maryland, Delaware, and NYC in their teens-20's. Douglas' loquacious, engaging stories were the source of many smiles and memories after our visit to this unique spot on the bay side of a beautiful wetlands preserve. And the purist crab cakes and locally grown veggies were phenomenal - thank you Paul and Douglas!
After a night in their antique filled beachside bungalow, we drove south to Assateague National Seashore and camped in the dunes after a four mile beach hike. Treated to a pink, orange and misty blue sunset, swarms of mosquitoes at dusk, tofu dogs and wading into the Maryland breakers, we slept a bit restlessly in the cozy tent. Getting up the next morning, jarred awake by a baja-style driving session on the beach, we were off for points north: New Jersey, New York, and Bean Town!

Now off to enjoy the late summer warmth in Toms River on our last East Coast day.
next post: jessie dishes on food, tunes and rollerskating in NJ, NY and MA...

Thursday, September 10, 2009

Delectable Enjoyments of the Best Kind...or, Is a Theme Forthcoming?
















We are nearing the four week mark of our travels...adventure...journey...exploratory transition phase. It's still challenging for us to describe, without some hesitation, just what we're doing, but we sure are having a blast, whatever the overarching theme. Since selling our house in Fayetteville, leaving behind the office/college life, unloading many of our possessions, storing what little remained, housing our dear kitty Zooey with Liam's parents, the reality is well underway. In this beginning trajectory, we are allowing the conception of our journey to materialize...hence, a title in process.

So, to begin, we thought of addressing our forming "theme." At various points over the past four weeks we've had conversations, privately and with friends, about a theme for these blog entries, and of course for the journey as a whole. And we've all thrown out some promising ideas. But how do you assign a theme to something that is in the process of unfolding, on a day to day basis? Part of the allure of travel, as we discover, is the physical and emotional experience of embracing the unexpected. It's a process that we affect and are affected by. And we've already butted up against many preconceived expectations, ill-formed plans, disappointments, and, best of all, enduring beautiful surprises. Like the thrill of blasting an old Ice-T album as we tore down the unfamiliar roads along the Blue Ridge Mountains, or the double rainbow that beamed out of the rainy sky over Bowie, MD, or the huge harvest moon that rose over the NY skyline as we picnicked in Central Park....this could go on and on. And as we all know, any little disappointments fade in memory and relevance.

Some of our most unforgettable moments along this journey have revolved around food and music shared with friends and family. Home cooked meals, restaurant delicacies, street side vendors... friends' aged CD collections, iTunes selections ready for download, street musicians serenading subway riders, and a jazz trio in a dark bar on the upper east side. Delectable enjoyments of the best kind! Beginning in Fayetteville with dinners straight from summer gardens and a delicious send-off feast, we have been overwhelmed with kindness and loving hospitality along the way, welcomed into the homes of close family, distant relatives, dogs, cats, babies and dear friends alike. Our journey is becoming a thread of experiences, of good meals, conversations and music, shared with all of YOU. Literally, we often look at each other and repeat the same feelings again and again: we are so very lucky to have a wonderful family and treasured friends who show us such kindness. We only hope to return the good energy....and to to keep it going.

With love,
Jessie & Liam
Coming soon: Recounted memories of delectable goodness from the past four weeks....from Arkansas to Virginia, Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey, New York & Massachusetts. Off now to catch a train up to Beverly, Mass....and so it goes!