Nothin' Beats the Creek

So we got lost.

Yes, incredibly lost on this year's annual trip to Clark Creek.

What should have taken two and a half hours turned into five hours. I cringe when I say five, because I have trouble admitting it. Five hours.

FIVE.

I know exactly how it happened. At least now I do, now that I've had a few days to stew on it.
 

We missed our exit. Plain an simple. 

Do you know how it happened? Well let me explain.

We met up at eight a.m. We took two cars.

In Jason's truck- Jason, Sally, Anna, and me. 

In Keever's car- Keever and Bobby.

We set out toward Baton Rouge....with no directions. Because I was certain I could simply google them on Jason's phone and Sally was certain that there was an exit that said "St. Francisville". Easy enough.

As we started to drive, we started the usual non-stop chatter about life. Jason chimed in a few times but he had little to offer on topics of the Bachelor and Reality Steve. So he settled in and focused on the road.

We were all sipping on these really horrible smoothies I made that morning that I had accidentally added too much cinnamon to. It was supposed to be a dash of cinnamon, but half the jar spilled into the blender. I never told anyone until now. And I appreciate that everyone pretended they were good, or spilled them in the grass when I wasn't looking. At any rate, it's the thought that counts.

Anyway so between sipping on smoothies and chatter, we ignored all exits in Baton Rouge. ALL EXITS. Before long we saw a sign that said Lafayette 3 miles and that's when we knew we are in a bad spot. That's when I started to panic. We turned on the GPS and let it recalculate for us. Why wasn't the GPS on when we started. I have no idea......no idea.

The next thing I know we are turning around to an exit we had just passed and taking it through a part of Louisiana I've never seen before. 

But that's not true, because I had seen it before.

"This looks really familiar," Anna said. "Yeah it does." Sally agreed.

How could this look familiar? We were looking at farms and tiny gas stations, we were traveling down a winding road that looked like any country road.

"I think this is the way we went last time...." says my Anna.

She was right. The last time we got lost. My stomach does a flip flop, because this is the moment that I realize we'll be taking a boat again. Most likely. Like we did the last time. And it may take longer to get there.

And it would be one thing if it were just us. Because they expect that from me. But it's not just us. It's Keever and Bobby following behind us.....Trusting me to know where to go.

So after a long time of driving through winding roads and many confirmations from the peanut gallery in the backseat (Anna and Sally) that this is in fact the same route we took when we were lost last year, we ended up in New Roads, Louisiana.

It's a beautiful little town, if you get a chance to go there. (You might if you ever go to Clark Creek with me) A quaint little town built completely around a lake with bookshops, baby shops, and florists on every street. I think that it must be where people go to retire, buzz around the lake several times in their pontoon boat, buy flowers for each other, baby gifts for their grandkids, and books to read in their spare time.

We drove over to the levee to where our ferry to St. Francisville would be and pulled behind a thirty car line.

* Now let me just insert here that it would have been a three hour trip if the line for the ferry hadn't been three ferry trips long. We wouldn't find out why this was until we actually got to St. Francisville.

We finally got a hint that the ferry doesn't zip across the Mississippi in 5 minutes, it was more like 30, and we got out our vehicles. We set up lunch in the back of the truck, we munched on sandwichs and told Sally it wasn't a good idea to roll down the levee, because there might be ants.

Two ferry trips later we had made it to the top of the levee. That's when we decided we should walk down to the river and skip rocks while we waited.

Bobby skipped 8 rocks in a row and Anna did almost six skips. I did one. I did one skip about twenty times and then Sally patted me on the back and said that I was so great at other things that it is was okay that rock skipping wasn't one of them. I sat down on the a tree stump, rested my chin on my hand, and studied the hand movements of all the naturally gifted rock skippers in our group. I still have no idea.

When the ferry came back we got on board and had our picture taken just like we did last time. Just like we will do next year when this happens. Because I don't think this is the last time we will take a boat to Clark Creek.
 

We zipped across the Mississippi to St. Francisville. It seems so much faster when you're on it then when your watching it from the levee.

I recalculated our arrival time at thirty minutes. Its about that much from St. Francisville. We drove through the town towards the winding road that takes you there. When we got to the big road that takes you to the winding road, it wasn't pretty. The entire road was jam packed with bumper to bumper traffic for........

the Angola Prison Rodeo. (the reason for the thirty-car ferry line)

Yes what a weekend to pick for a Clark Creek adventure!

Thirty minutes later we finally made it to the winding road past Angola prison. The road that takes you to Clark Creek. :)

We made it to Clark Creek at 2:00 pm.

I'm embarrassed.

But is was worth it. It really was. It always is.

We had a great time. The weather was perfect not to hot, not to cool. The leaves for so green, they were almost neon. The Creek was real low, so the hike was not so tough. It was really, really great.

Next year on our trip to Clark Creek, we'll bring directions. On second thought maybe not, I'm not sure it would be much of an "adventure" if it were so planned.

Here's some great pictures from our trip!

Boat (Ferry) to St Francisville, after an hour or so of lunch and rock skipping.

Hooray, we made it! This is taken on top of the waterfall. Normally the creek is so high that you can't stand here, but we lucked out.

My sister and me, just your average everyday explorers. Nothing Fancy.


Big giant boulders with snakes in between, I'm kidding, but's it's possible!


Putting our heads together for a solution on how to get to Clark Creek faster next year.


Wiping my face on Jason's sleeve. He doesn't yet realize it.


Waterfall fun!


Let's try to flip over this thing.


Jason might be stuck!


"...And this is Clark Creek."


Bother and Kid Sister in Laws



Let's take a breather.


Dr. Peppers mean we are done with our hike!


Dinner at the Mrytles Plantation (most haunted plantation in America)
We're planning to stay there if anyone wants in on it. Comment below.


Just hanging out on the porch with some ghosts. :)

Up a Clark Creek, With No Paddle

Hey.


It's me.


You know, the one who never blogs anymore.


Here I am ready to blog. I'm ready to blog in full force.


Here I go....


So we're planning our annual trip to Clark Creek tomorrow.


It's a birthday thing for me. And I love it, I really do.

I realize this is three weeks after the fact. But Jason couldn't be there for my actual B-Day and so it had to be pushed back several weeks. So we waited till all the stars could align and three people who made it so awesome last year could be there again (Sally, Anna, and Jason) and we could add new people to the mix (Keever and Bobby).


I'm always really excited the day before. This is natural. It's a big deal this trip we take.

Three hours to get there if we remember to bring the directions this time. We never do. Last year, we ended up on a ferry to St. Francisville and still can't for the life of me figure out how we ended up on a boat. I've never taken a boat to Clark Creek. Ever. But I did, last year.


The year before that, Jason and I were halfway to Baton Rouge before he asked me for the directions. Naturally I should know. He had never been there and I had been several times. All I could give him was a shrug of the shoulders as I sunk down slowly in my seat. Quickly turned my eyes to my window so I couldn't catch his "Oh my God, you forgot the directions" face. I guess you can sense how that went over.


We almost killed each other.

Then, we called every person we knew who would be up at eight a.m on a Saturday morning. I know I wouldn't, if it weren't a Clark Creek day.


We begged them to turn their computers on and google, please google Clark Creek for us.


It was tough. But we made it there. Alive. Still together. In one piece.

And this is just getting there. What happens when your there?


 








Well the first time I brought Jason to Clark Creek, he was exhausted after the first five minutes. You might laugh. But it's pretty intense. I felt the same way. You're trekking across boulders. You're swinging from ropes. I'm sure Indiana Jones trained here before he was Indiana Jones.


You get attacked by sand flies. Prime example, Anna, one year ago. Went out there with freshly shampooed wet hair. The kind of hair that sand flies go gagas for. She was tough, my Anna Marie, fought them off like a trooper.

And the snakes?


Yes they're everywhere. Sleeping peacefully between rocks. Waiting for you to slip and step on them. : )


And the waterfalls?




If you're not careful, you could become part of the waterfall, or slip into the ice cold water miniature lake it makes when it hits the ground .....or be pushed into the ice cold water...prime example, Anna, needed her sister's help. Received a push down, not a pull up and fell right in. Hey, it's survival. 
 Yes, survival.

Am I nervous for our newcomers? (Keever and Bobby) 


Yes :)










Do they know what they signed up for? 


Probably not. :)


Will there be war wounds? 

Hopefully not! but this is nature we are dealing with! See these pictures off to the side?


See Sally with her foot jammed into the quick sand like mud? Yep. It happens every time. It took us ten minutes to retrieve her leg.

And see this picture of Sally, Anna, and me, arm and arm, happily skipping through Clark Creek like it's the yellow brick road. See the excitement on my face. My happy smile. My over enthusiastic expression. Then see Sally's leg and the position its in? This is moments before it comes smashing down on my leg with its cleat-like shoe bottom. I don't have a picture of the agony. But I tell you it was bruised for weeks. 


But it was worth. Worth it for Clark Creek.


I let you know how it goes. :)

Follow-ups, Easter egg hunts, and a birthday

First I just want to say a super huge thanks to my sister-in-law Robin who came to my rescue for the rosary I hosted at my house a few Thursdays ago. Robin gave me a dinner course and a dessert which I am very excited about cooking. I wasn't able to make either one because I was in a terrible time crunch and the meat had gone bad! I ended up making my black bean soup featured earlier in this blog. Click here. It was a huge success and I was super proud of my stealth-like cooking skills. I made my soup and fantasic green onion and artichoke dip in just under an hour. I was, well, a complete mess as my relatives arrived at 6:30 but no one seemed to notice that I managed to splash black been soup all over my sweater. I didn't even remember putting a head band flower in my hair. I guess I was in serious focus mode or maybe its just a bad habit. Who knows? I've posted the pictures from this gathering below. :) There was absolutely no soup left, so I'll check that off as successful.

Here's some photos from the rosary at my house.

My mom and me....and my crazy flower headband that I can get enough of.

My uncles enjoying the black bean soup!

Everyone in the kitchen likes it too!

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I had a birthday.


It was really lovely. Very busy. And fun.


On Sunday (my birthday-eve), I went over to my friend, Elizabeth Ray's for a Southern themed Easter party.


I wore a flower dress and flower head band. (I can't get enough of flower head bands). All the other girls wore bonnets some with flowers and some with stripes.


We sipped Mimosas, we brought our finest dishes, and we ate with delightful pink plastic forks on Easter inspired paper plates. The hostess with the mostess sported a pretty bonnet that was certainly enviable. She toted around a china tea cup filled to the brim with mimosa. :)


We feasted on our Thanksgiving-like meal till our bellies hurt and moved our party down the stairs and outside to enjoy the spring weather. We talked in Southern accents. Gossiped non-stop while lounging on New Orleans' Spanish style iron chairs. Held our hands over our eyes to shield them from the bright pre-summer sun. It was too hot in its beams, but the wind in the shade made it cool enough for a light sweater.


It was, you guessed it, a lovely occasion.


And then there was the Easter egg hunt.


Our hostess ushered us back up the stairs where we anxiously waited for her to hide the eggs.  We gathered around while our she hid each one and then descended when she rang a kitchen bell.


And before she could wave us off on the hunt, we bounded through her backyard garden. A backyard garden unlike anything I've ever seen.


Pots and more pots with overflowing plants of herbs and flowers. Flowers in yellow, purple, and red. Plants that were decorative and some that were functional. Parley, rosemary, basel, and thyme. In pots together and sporadically planted in the yard. Tomatoes and cute little strawberries.


Like children, in a mad-dash fury of determination, our eyes scanned the backyard for the obvious eggs. Give-away eggs that would stocked up our pile. Our attention then turned to the serious eggs. The eggs meant to fool and that kept you guessing. Frantically pulling back leaves and lifting up grass, we scoured the land to find every last one. We trampled over each other and stumpled through the yard. Our eyes never lifted in the search.


And finally it was over.


But of course it wasn't.


It spiraled out of control.


Egg hunt after egg hunt.


Teams and then face-offs.


Some eggs were three points and some became two.


We couldn't stop ourselves. It was the most addictive game of Easter egg hunting in history.


Finally after too many egg hunts, I called it quits. Intuition told me it was close to masquito time. I bid my Southern friends fairwell till the next time, gathered my chocolate bunny prize and headed home.

                                              

                              

     

                               

                              

                           

                           




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On my birthday, my friend Keever and I did what I love to do.


We went to TJ Max. :)!!!


I love TJ Max.


More than anyone will ever know.


I thought it was pretty ironic that someone at the Southern party the day before, mentioned that a true Southern woman finds some way to drop TJ Max in conversation. And my dear friend Eray's jaw dropped and she pointed at me, accusingly.


Me, drop Tj Max in all my conversations?....well I never!


But I guess I do. A little.


After hours of looking at shoes, dresses, and home decorations (because that's what I love most). We finally called it quits and set off for our next destination.


Plants.


Do you remember when I said I was going to be planting a spice/herb garden and that I was going to be hauling dirt and making a crop field in my backyard?


I lied.


I bought a bunch of pots instead. I bought four of them. (Yes, at TJ Max.) Because why should I have to tear up weeds to get what I want when I can just plant them in pots?


So the plant department at Lowes was our next destination.


Parsley, thyme, cilantro, basal, chives. These are all the herbs that I found. Some I really wanted but they didn't have them (Rosemary, Sage).


I planned to shove three or four in one pot and the chives in a pot by themselves.


Before heading home we thought about going to Handcock fabric. (Another thing that I love). I haven't started sewing again. I say "again" because the last time I was a crazy sewing fool was when I was a kid and I was sewing up doll dresses on my great Aunt Edna's sewing machine. Well, now I think about sewing and that makes me plenty happy enough. I even bought a sewing machine and that made me even happier. But actually sewing? I'll get there, one day.


We pulled up with Hancock with purpose. Keever needed to pick fabric to recover her dining room chairs and I was there for moral support.


And to dream of sewing.


Because that's what Hancock's make me do. I envy all those bobbin experts in there. I always try to look like I know what's what in there but I know they can spot an impostor any day. And I am an impostor. I'm just someone with an unused sewing machine.


Okay I have two! Two sewing machines. I bought a desk a few months back at an estate sale and there was a sewing machine inside! Who knew? So with two sewing machines there should be no excuse.


But there always is.


We picked some beautiful flowery fabric that was, in my opinion, very Southern Living.


I have a picture of what they ended up looking like.

There was no sewing involved. Just a staple gun and some scissors. I was pretty proud of us.


When I got home I had found two presents on my porch. One from Ms. Sandy, my neighbor, and one from my Nicole, my b.f.f. from the 1st grade. I was so excited. Presents on my doorstep!! 


I went around the back of the house and started planting my plants in the pots that I got.


Halfway through my spice planting frenzy, Ms. Sandy came around the house and presented me with birthday cake and ice cream. "Oh Lord," she said. I looked up at her, covered in dirt, shoveling a hole for my Basil and swatting Murphy in effort to keep her from eating the chives. "Well, um. I brought you some cake and ice cream."she said smiling.  I guess I was a sight, covered in dirt the way that I was. I thanked her a whole bunch for it and went inside to put it away for when I wasn't completely covered with dirt. I love Ms. Sandy, she makes birthdays so special.


I ended my birthday with birthday cake at my mom's house. It was just my mom, my dad and me but it was still nice. We sang happy birthday and had heaping slices of cake.


Cake and Ice Cream, Presents on my doorstep, Tj Max, Hancock Fabric, Plants in Pots. A Southern-themed party?


I'd say it was a pretty great birthday!