Dreams and Other Follies

Asheville, North Carolina is a land of misty mountains, America's largest castle, and enchanted forests where one can hike, bike, and enjoy beautiful waterfalls. Or so I hear. I've been dreaming of visiting Asheville for about 4 years now. Every year saying, "Next year." "Maybe in a few years." As my oldest says, "Mama is a good waiter." When it comes to something I want, I can wait for a dangerously long time. So long that, like the old man in the movie Up, it may be too late.

It was never a good time. The finances were not in the best shape (when are they in the best shape?), we needed to visit family elsewhere, and so many tiny reasons that add up to significance. Finally the reasons dissolved in a nice puddle of commitment. The truth is my family couldn't stand it anymore. 

Every few days it would come again, the facts about Asheville I had read about. "Did you know that Asheville has been chosen as "best city to live" by Sperling?" This was 2007. In 2012, I was going on about how Curate was the new "it" restaurant in the middle of downtown. Like a rock worn smooth from the trickle of a stream, my husband, who's of the taciturn variety, offered, "Why don't we invite your mom to go with us to Asheville?" Silence. Did he really mean this? I searched his face, and after more than a decade of marriage, I knew he was not goofing around.

We have invited her to come with us during her milestone birthday and she's excited about going. I'm not entirely sure we are going with her, though. It is April and she has not bought a ticket yet. The reasons are many, mostly health reasons. I certainly hope for her that we can go in the Spring. If not, we will be going in the fall.

After going through some minor embarrassment that this whole trip is for me (what, not for the kids? Not only for my mom?), I finally came to the conclusion that this was a concrete example of Mama and Daddy having their own passions and interests. Sure, Daddy paints and reads and Mama cooks and bakes and reads and takes pictures for enjoyment, but this? This was big. It came down to this:

What good example am I showing the kids just deferring my dreams indefinitely?

Asheville is calling me, and I answered the call. The nudge to go hasn't left me. I just tried to brush it aside, sweeping it under responsibilities and wakeful nights. It's my dear husband that gets all the credit. He even gave me a beautiful silver pendant in the shape of a hot air balloon to remind me to never to let go of my dreams. I won't, love. Thanks to you, I won't.

Gator Bites and Frog Legs

After our adventure in the Everglades, we were famished. I was trying to be frugal and wait till we get home - after all, we were only about 40 minutes away, I reasoned - but Husband and kids won out. Even Explorer was shouting from her car seat and smacking her lips. I surrender. We stopped at a joint with a multitude of ATVs in camo parked in front of it. We knew were still in gator country, as matter of fact, the eatery was called Gator Grill. Husband, who's recently been caught watching Duck Dynasty episodes more than once, had a mischievous grin on his face. "Wanna get some gator bites and frog legs?" he asked, drawing out the vowels in the latter word. Matching his grin, I replied with a smile of my own, "Sure!" He looked a bit taken aback, but then again, he didn't know that I had been wanting to try frog legs since I had read that it was a French delicacy. After all, I had tried snails in Disney's Epcot France. Frogs should be easier.

He went in with Builder and Ballerina, both excited at the prospect of eating, but not so sure about the frog legs. After what seemed to be half an hour, but perhaps closer to 15 minutes, they stepped out with the bounty. Husband looked pleased, and whispered in a conspiratorial way, "Do you see how many people are here? It must be a good place." I had to agree. We were in the proverbial middle of nowhere and the place was packed. He opened the box and showed me the frog legs, which looked like this:

It has some kind of light creamy sauce on it and a side of what looked like saffron-colored rice. The legs looked nice and well cooked. An A for presentation. Now onto the gator bites. We had had gator bites before, I have had it twice. They normally come deep fried and are quite tough, though pretty good tasting. These gator bites were different, and the kids were so hungry they didn't mind trying the gator bites. Builder was apprehensive of trying the frog legs, though. Here's what these gator bites looked like:

They were grilled, in a creamy salmon-colored sauce, served with fries. Builder had given up fries for Lent, and as he was hungry, he quickly dove in and tried the bites. He said they were all right, but a bit spicy. He kept eating, though. Ballerina had a few but thought they were too spicy. She went the safe route with the ketchup and fries.

As for us grownups? We also had some gator bites, but left those largely to Builder. They were surprisingly tender, and indeed, the sauce had a kick to it. Those were the best gator bites I have ever had. Husband agreed.

Now onto the frog legs - are they as succulent as Jase from Duck Dynasty claims they are? Hmm.. I have to admit, they fall off the bone and the meat melts in your mouth. As for taste, both Husband and I were surprised at how tasty they are. Phil, the patriarch and my favorite from the duck show, calls them a delicacy. I have a feeling we have arrived very late at the party. There are hundreds of thousands who already know this "secret".

Even the kids had to admit the frog legs were tasty. They ceased to touch it after thinking about what they were eating. It's so much easier to let go of the hen and cow image as our food doesn't look like the living animals anymore, but these legs are a clear reminder.

I also found googled nutrition and frog legs are apparently low in fat and provides a decent amount of protein.

I asked Husband if he would have given frog legs a try had he not watched Duck Dynasty. Nope, he replied. Just another way this show is breaking ground.

St. Patrick's Day Everglades National Park Hike

Happy St. Patrick's Day! I have no shred of Irish in me, but my husband and kids do. Every year I prepare Corned Beef and Cabbage in the pressure cooker splashed with a healthy dose of Guinness (Extra) Stout. Not beer-drinkers, we buy and save the stuff just for this yearly occasion.

This year we decided to do something different. We headed out for two trails at the Everglades National Park. Even though the entrance to the park is only about 45 minutes away from our home, the kids and I have never set foot in this place. Intimidated by stories of a teenaged Daddy stepping into the brackish waters to consort with alligators and oh yeah, also test for substances, I had decided it was best to avoid the area until we didn't have any more young ones who looked like bait.


However, we need practice. We're planning a trip to Asheville, North Carolina, in the late Spring, which involves plenty of hiking opportunities. We've only hiked some small trails in Pennekamp State Park and other local areas in our neck of the woods. We needed practice, but there was nothing much around here. At least I didn't think so until Husband piped in with, "We can go to the Everglades." The land of gators? With a two-year-old in tow? I really don't want to go back to a four-person family, honey.

He reassured us and regaled us with the promise of practice trails, varied wildlife, no mosquitoes, and cooler weather than usual. Certainly, winter was the time to explore this treasured national park.

As soon as we drove into the park, we were sure we had made the right decision. All of us clad in Irish green, the five of us must have appeared like a five-leaf clover. The visitor center was pleasant, and did a good job of evoking the spirit of the park and its natural resources. The children enjoyed the exhibits, especially the video showing an alligator chomping on a raccoon.

The friendly volunteer at the desk handed me a map and told me that the Anhinga and Gumbo Limbo trails were just the right thing for kids. I felt much better. If he knew that kids had had fun on that trail, they must have been alive, and intact. This is sounding better and better.

He was right. The Anhinga trail was loaded with wildlife - anhingas perched on top of low-lying branches, turtles basking on rocks, cormorants flying about, black vultures eyeing us suspiciously, and the alligators, oh my.


They were everywhere. Sun-bathing on the side of the river of grass, on rocks, a multitude of them on a muddy bank further down the trail. Besides the perpetually motionless dark gray mass that passed as an alligator at the zoo, I had never seen so many active, open-mouthed, free alligators roaming about. If I had not heeded the park's rules, I could have touched one's tail. I was inches from its tail.

I took close-up pictures. I'm not sure I wanted to get another opportunity. I was fine for myself, but seeing Ballerina and Explorer so close to alligators made me nervous; they are oblivious to their power. Builder had a sense of propriety around them, knowing full well the dangers of their jaws. Husband looked confident he could overpower one if he needed to, because, gosh, he had seen the Seminoles and the Crocodile Hunter do it.

Explorer, only two years on this earth and certain she knows it all, lost her temper a few times trying to go play with them. What ever could she see in these rubbery, bumpy, giant lizard-like grey masses? People smiled knowingly as they were passing her crumpled little figure lying on the sun-drenched boardwalk.

Later on the same trail I saw anhingas mating, mother herons feeding their gangly-looking offspring, and pretty blue herons posing, then flying away as if to say, "enough gawking already".

The Gumbo Limbo trail was an entirely different experience - secluded, quiet, abundant in plant life but only a few catbirds to be seen. It was nice to be in the shade, and my oldest and youngest were starting to get tired. I liked the jungle feel.

Each trail didn't go for more than a mile, but our young adventurers kept going back and forth, stopping at innumerable places. These were, no doubt, the longest two miles of my life. If it weren't for my middle nature girl, Ballerina, we would have missed the curious catbird and the stately green dragonfly on the leaf.

We would have to go back and go on the Mahogany Trail. The rich diversity of wildlife here in the Everglades is something to behold, and something to protect.