Fall will only happen in Tallahassee this year (and it's not even because of the budget crisis)

Oh, boy. Oh, boy. Oh, boy! Fall starts next week! Well, for most of the country, at least. Here in Florida, it doesn't really begin until November but it's only visible in Tallahassee. Monroe Street to be exact. I think it's because they have the right kind of trees.

It's sad, really. Fall doesn't happen here in Jacksonville. Or any other part of Florida that I've seen. My friend has a theory about the seasons of Florida: "There's spring, summer, and next summer." Yeah, that pretty much sums it up. Except for Hurricane Season and "Holy crap, why the f*** is there frost on my windshield if I live in Florida!?" Season, too. We all know who's stealing whose thunder there.

So, back to fall. Our trees go naked, just like everyone else's. And we rake the leaves that fall and smother the grass that we've been trying to cover for months because the HOA hates the fact that drought makes the 'hood look like shit. (Dead leaves give Floridians a reason to have shitty looking lawns even though drought conditions weren't a valid excuse.) Sadly, you can't even playfully dive into your pile of raked leaves. Why not, you ask? Imagine fifty spiky walnut-sized pine cones hiding in there, just waiting to puncture your skin like stationary darts. Now imagine landing on them. You catch one in your forearm, a pair of thorns pierce through your jeans and stab you in the thigh, and yes - you're bleeding, just a little bit - but, hey, blood is blood, right?

I don't think I've ever experienced a real fall season. Living in Upper Michigan only means the snow melts long enough in June for the family to go camping in the woods and not have to worry about pissing icicles because it's so cold outside. I know I never even had a full Halloween costume...what was the point of it if you had to cover it up with a snowsuit? In Maryland, it's blazing hot and then it's just plain cold. I'm sure the leaves change into the beautiful colors I've heard so much about but when you're living outside of Washington, DC, trees are hard to come by as most of the them have either been shot, mugged, or they've just flat out packed up and decided to move to Southern Maryland.

How do we function here in Florida when the rest of the country is experiencing Mother Nature at her finest?

1. We buy candles. Just this afternoon, I spent $40 at Yankee Candle Company and brought home some decent loot. Candied Apple, Autumn Fruit, Cafe Au Lait, and Buttercream (for the kid). And a huge tote bag for $5. Shake a stick at that.

2. We bake. Alot. Seventy-four recipes in one book? Sure, I'll buy it! And what's this? Scream Cheese Swirled Brownies! Layered Pumpkin Cheesecake! And, yes, that really is called Scream Cheese...Halloween is just around the corner and I don't have to buy my kid a snowsuit! I can buy her an honest-to-goodness Halloween costume! Just wait till I tell her about the goold ol' days when I had to walk uphill both ways in the snow just to get to school.

3. We turn our calendars to pages that look like this (and dream of seeing a place like this with our own eyes):


4. We visit our friends who live near places that look like this (and plan to move there one day ourselves):




5. We go to Tallahassee in November!

Destination Unknown

Oh, c'mon! Sing along...

Life is so strange
Destination unknown
When you don't know
Your destination
Something could change
It's unknown
And then you won't know
Destination unknown
-Missing Persons

I love that song.

Anyway, I have a problem. Our little circle of friends tries to get together whenever the opportunity presents itself (You're driving through Virginia? Stay at my place! OR When you pass through Columbia, South Carolina, call me. We'll have breakfast!). Because of my nomadic childhood in the military, I made friends that eventually had to move away. Then I moved away. Go figure, now we're everywhere. It's hard to get us all in one place. But, it happens. With some work and some organization and some kind of plan.

The plan. Oh, yeah. A plan. Did anyone this year put one together? Not really. Well, yes. But did we stick to the plan? Nope. Now there's a problem.

PLANS THAT WORKED
The plan in 2006: Savannah, Georgia. Friends from Florida, Maryland, and South Carolina.
The plan in 2007: Charleston, South Carolina. Friends from Florida, Maryland and South Carolina.
The plan in 2007 (PART II!): Savannah, Georgia. Again. Just friends from Florida and South Carolina.
(Are you seeing a pattern here? We needed to step up the number of participants.)
The plan in 2008: York, South Carolina. Friends from Florida and Virginia.
The plan in 2008 (PART II!): Byron, Georgia: Friends from Florida and Maryland.
The plan in 2008 (PART III!): York, South Carolina. Friends from Florida and DeAnna's womb (Delilah was born in May of 2008.)


PLANS THAT ARE NOT WORKING OUT SO WELL
The plan for summer 2009: Jekyll Island, Georgia. Friends from Florida, South Carolina, Maryland, and Texas. Five adults and seven kids.

Oh, yeah. We forgot to book the rooms a few months ago. Actually, we didn't forget. I just put it off. "Let's wait to see if anyone else can make it!" Now the rooms are running at least $169 per night. And because there are so many of us, we cannot just book two rooms like we originally planned (there's that damn plan again!). Now we have to book three rooms and split that cost four ways (two of the five adults are married to each other), but Jekyll Island is too much money.

So I've thrown a few options out to my high school pals to see if they're open to moving to a new location. Suggestions include Tybee Island, Ga., St. Augustine, Fl., Savannah, Ga. (been there, done that 3 times), or Helen, Ga. - a small Bavarian mountain village north of Atlanta. It totally goes against the whole We Don't Live in Florida Like Dena Does So We Want The Beach vacation that we all had in mind a few months ago but it's inexpensive, has tons of water fun, and actually has quite a few activities for families. And if you forgot how many kids were going to be there, here's a reminder: seven. SEVEN!! All between the ages of 1 and 13.

Does anyone else have any other suggestions? We're looking for a family-friendly vacation area (east coast/southeast) that offers lodging for regular people. No resorts or week-long condo rentals here. We're of the hotel/motel crowd. Of course we won't sleep in a hotel that rents by the hour. We do have standards.

On a semi-related note, check out the website for Destination Unknown Journals. I came across this site when I was looking up the song lyrics and fell in love with some of these designs. $40 for a journal is craaazaaay, but they're pretty. This one's my fave:



Anyway, I'd love to hear your suggestions!

the ultimate road trip accessory

You gotta admit - it's cute! And while the idea of "camping" probably doesn't conjure up visions of little teardrop trailers (such as the one pictured above), it is still a lifestyle within a lifestyle. I, for one, love this little teardrop. I also love the $583,000 monster of a RV that came equipped with...get this...a doorbell! The only problem with an RV that large is that I'm constantly reminded of:

a) what it's like to have all kinds of ridiculous dollars to waste (yes, waste!) on this monstrosity, complete with marble countertops, three big-screen TVs, and a second floor.
b) Bret Michaels and those nasty girls he hangs out with on a tour bus almost like this very one.

Eeew.

So Dad and I took my daughter to the RV Show here in downtown Jacksonville. It's a fun thing my dad and I do every year (and probably the only thing we do together at all). In the parkng lot of Jacksonville Municipal Stadium, we think of all kinds of ways he can quit his job, sell the house, and convince my mother that it was a great idea for my father to quit his job and sell the house. Oh, he'd also have to trade in his Honda CRV since it can't tow anything over 1,500 pounds. And that's too bad because that means he'd have to buy a new truck to tow the new camper and that would totally make my mother go apeshit and she'd never buy the whole "it's a great idea!" idea.

So we dream.

I grew up camping in tents and scaling my own fish if I wanted to eat that night. My childhood is full of memories of the orange/brown tent, the pop-up camper, and finally, the RV. It was small, but it got my family from Upper Michigan to South Florida. Our neighbors would all go camping with us so I usually had a playmate to go swimming with. My mother would cook pasties and parmesan fish over the campfire and the grownups would help us catch fireflies in old Mason jars. Then after dinner, our parents would send us into the woods to collect sticks for roasting marshmallows so we could make s'mores. My daughter knows how to make s'mores - in the microwave (I know I should at least teach her how to roast marshmallows over a Yankee candle flame).

Elle was getting caught up in the fun of it all, too. She declared herself the "bed-tester" and would let us know how the sleep comfort rated for every RV or pop-up we visited. Even those campers that came equipped with a Sleep Number mattress had to be tested. Eventually we made our way into the big ones, the monstrosities, the RVs that were the size of Bret Michaels' Rock of Love tour bus. Elle declared herself the "drivers-seat-tester".


Don't fear, America. She is at least nine years from obtaining her driver's license.