Friday, October 30, 2015

The Bores Annual Carving Party

Our immediate Bores family lives within a 60 mile radius of each other, yet we have the HARDEST time getting together. So we have to plan months in advance. This month, we planned to go to one of MY favorite pumpkin patches - Osborn Farm in Loveland - to pick pumpkins, go back to the house, sip fall-ish drinks, and have a carving party. 

Hesitantly, the family agreed to this "traditional" idea. 

So as we were getting ready on Saturday, Mr. B decided to trim his beard. Turns out he really has no idea how to use a beard trimmer and took off half of his sideburns. An emergency trip to the hair salon, made us fashionably late to the pumpkin patch. 

We met the family, grabbed a wheel barrow from the line up and started our trek to the field of picturesque pumpkins. 

We started laughing immediately, then left the wheel barrow in the middle of the field, because there were NO pumpkins to be found, except for the rotten ones. 

Of course, they blamed me for this non-sense. 

So off we went to the next best pumpkin patch. The man-made one in front of the grocery store. We loaded up a grocery cart in place of the wheel barrow and then opted for a family photo in front of the apples. By this point, I can guarantee you the family was ready to disown me. Even my husband tried to escape the photo and hide behind the lemons.


Back at the house, we laid out some newspaper, and got to complaining carving. 

My father in law refused to participate, except for the parts when he got to use tools. Have you ever tried to hammer cookie cutters into a hallow pumpkin? Or drill holes into the side of one? My mother in law had a great time entertaining us, making a mess and letting Monty eat all the pumpkin guts off the ground. [Disclaimer: This act will destroy majority of your cookie cutters.]

My brother in law could not get over the fact that I "make" Mr. B carve pumpkins every year or the fact that his pumpkin was thicker than everyone else's. Stop your bitchin!

My husband decided he was going to free hand the PSU Nittany Lion with a sharpie marker before carving. When he realized that he's not an artist, he opted for block letters instead: P S U. At least it looks good when it's dark.

My sister in law came prepared with her very own design of a horse. I think she would even admit she had fun. Laughing at her husband's carved pumpkin may have actually been the highlight of the day. Do you see the tree? No Dave, all we see is the letter D and a blob in the middle.

And I went the easy route. A face. So original.


I may not be able to convince them to participate in the Bores Annual Carving Party next year,  but at least we have some hilarious memories and photos to remember this day. In fact, I would say these may be Christmas card worthy.

Happy Halloween from the whole Bores Crew.

Dave's blob is really an owl. And Arica's horse wins, by a long shot. Maybe the Bores family really isn't talented enough to carve pumpkins.

PS. Dave's blob died earlier this week. Being the detective that is he, he plans to open an active investigation against this death. We believe it was "natural causes".

Thursday, October 29, 2015

Monty Turns Six


This little boy turned 6 on October 7th. The night before Mr. B and I drove to HomeGoods to buy Monty a new birthday toy. Well one toy quickly turned into six... and $42 later we had a bag full of goodies to bring home.

Look how happy we made him.

That caterpillar lasted almost through the end of the month, but after getting all 8 squeakers out, he started leaving a trail of stuffing in every room he traveled too. So we finally had to toss it. The tennis balls and majority of the others were punctured and destroyed within minutes, but he had fun. And at the end of the day, that was the point. FUN.

Happy birthday Monty Goose. We love you more than we love each other.

Yes, I think it's possible.

5th Birthday | 4th Birthday3rd Birthday |

Wednesday, October 28, 2015

Camp Bores in RMNP

It's that time of year again. The time where we load up the camper and set off on our last #campbores trip of the season. Although Mr. B would have no problem camping in the middle of December, I usually convince him to pack it up and store it away. But one last trip to Rocky Mountain National Park (RMNP), scoring the very last two (handicap) camp sites at the 11th hour on Friday afternoon, feeling the crispness in the air, sitting around a crackling campfire, having Long's Peak as your backdrop, and going to bed while listening to elk bugle is essentially how the B's define fall.

Mr. B was up at the ass crack of dawn one morning. While I laid in bed, he and the dog went exploring and captured the beauty below. Some of the best views can be seen before the rest of the world is awake. I know that, but somehow, I have the worst time getting out of a warm bed. Thankfully I have a husband that captures it and shows me later.


Sam and Julie joined us for the first night in their new pop-up, Anges. She's older than most of us, but she's in great shape. Julie has already remodeled the inside with new linens, covers and pillows. Get ready guys, this is just the start of many new memories in the great outdoors. Who am I? If you would have told me 10 years ago that I would be encouraging friends to buy campers, let alone owning one myself, I would have fallen over with laughter. But...here we are...


After Sam and Julie packed it up Saturday morning, Mr. B and I made our way into Estes Park to attend the Pilsner and Pumpkins festival. It was lacking excitement in every sense, so we continued on to get a beer elsewhere and followed it up with an Almond Joy Latte from KIND Coffee. 

Back at camp, Mr. B found a way to hang our PSU flag, since I neglected to bring the pole. We downloaded an app so we could tune into the game, made a pizza, played a game of checkers and snuggled the dog. When we realized Penn State had no chance of coming back from the ass whooping they were receiving, we turned in for the night. 

The next day, I woke up and could barely open my mouth. The sickness I had been feeling a few days before had taken a turn for the worst, so our plan to visit Sprague Lake at sunrise was replaced with an extra hour of sleep. We did finally make out of bed and down to Morraine Park to see a Bull Elk and all of his women. 

We continued on to Sprague Lake. A place that still stands as one of my FAVORITE places in Colorado. It was one of the very first places Mr. B and his parents brought me on my first visit to Colorado in 2008. Even after 7 years, it still takes my breath away. I am so lucky to have married a man who's life mission was to make his wife fall in love with the state we now call home. Thank you Mr. B. You've shown me things, I never imagined I'd experience. 

Once we made it back home, I was greeted with a Strep Throat diagnosis and a good excuse to get addicted to Scandal. I LOVEEEEEEEEEE FITZ!!

Our #campbores adventures will continue next spring. Mr. B is already planning our first trip of 2016 in April and mapping out our TWO week long trip to Canada next Summer. Lord help us, all. It's going to be a long winter. Mr. B needs something to build or places to visit via train, plane or automobile. Our house on wheels is taking a hiatus for the next 6 months. Adios.

Tuesday, October 27, 2015

Camp Bores in Wyoming

Ready to hit the road for the 2.5 hour drive to Sugarloaf Campground, Wyoming.
this post was written weeks ago. over a month ago actually, on Labor Day weekend, from the comfort of our house on wheels. imagine, if you will...

It’s Saturday morning, approximately 11:15AM and I am sitting at the dinette inside our camper. I have a fall candle lit beside me, a cup of warm apple cider in a mug, and I am looking out the window at the incredibly picturesque Medicine Bow Mountain Range. It’s approximately 49 degrees outside and 56 degrees inside. Mr. B had informed me to prepare for a cool, fall weekend. I packed a bag full of flannels and leggings, but didn't realize I needed winter boots, a jacket, hat and gloves.

This campground sits at 10,700 feet in elevation, which means we are near tree line, the temps are significantly cooler than where we live, and the wind is much stronger.  It's nearly fecking winter up here, even during the first week of September. With that said, the views are some of the best. 

We arrived in the pouring rain Friday afternoon. I swear every single #campbores trip this year we’ve set up in the rain. My favorite. Insert sarcasm.

When the thunder ceased and the rain became a sprinkle, we laced up our boots and explored the water front.  See those sexy Sorel boots on my feet (below)? Yep, those were my birthday gift this year. And let me tell you, my toes would be frostbitten by now, if I didn’t have them. Slight exaggeration, but really they are the WARMEST BOOTS EVER.

The reflection, well those are Mr. B's favorite photos. Unfortunately, it was the ONLY time the entire weekend that the water was calm enough to capture these mirrored images. Hence, why you won't see any photos of us in that canoe. There was no way I was going to paddle against the current. Who am I kidding, Mr. B never lets me paddle because for some reason I can't master the concept of paddling like a normal person and end up causing us to nearly sink with the amount of water I splash inside. 

When back at camp, Mr. B realized all of the wood he wanted to forage was soaking wet - blame the fecking rain. We needed some dry wood to at least start the fire, so we jumped in Big Red and headed to the nearest small town – Centennial. It blows my mind that people live in a town with one Mercantile, a Friendly Store (that sells 6 day old bread), and three dive bars. We never did find dry wood for sale, but did find ourselves inside one of the said bars cheer-sing to my birthday.  The friendly bartender offered us empty beer boxes to start our fire in place of dry wood. Nice man.


A combination of a cardboard and a half bottle of lighter fluid girl scout juice, we finally had warmth.  The campsites are pretty close to each other here, so while Scott was behind our site looking for more wood to burn, one of the young girl’s at the campsite next to us, yelled to her siblings, “Look guys, it’s a real lumberjack!” Mr. B was dressed in boots, carhartt pants, and a flannel shirt, with an ax thrown over his shoulder. That young girl has good taste - real men wear flannel and chop wood. He's alllllll mine.

We bundled up, cracked some beers (my new favorite, Brombeere - a german style sour wheat beer), and made ourselves a too-spicy pasta dinner. We also had plans to make a pumpkin pie to celebrate my birthday, but decided to save it for another night when our friends would be there an help us devour the whip cream pie! Turns out, we never actually made the damn pie, suppose we'll save that idea for next year. This 29 year old girl still had to blow out a candle, so we stuck one in the pasta dish. Don't ask us how many matches we lit before I actually got to it before the wind.

Saturday morning we woke up to the bustling wind, drank some coffee and tea and decided to put our brand new cast iron waffle maker to use. Aside from nearly setting our camper on fire, while trying to season it, I would say it turned into a successful breakfast. According to my husband, it was quite obvious I had never seasoned cast iron before and I am not quite sure he will ever let me do it again. My reply? There’s a first time for everything, even if it means setting the fire alarm off in the middle of the fecking woods. Yes that happened. Oops. Too bad a fireman couldn't save me out here. #nophoneservice


By day time, we explored the surrounding area, visited some old mining equipment, prayed at the outdoor church, soaked up the gorgeous views, and waited for our friends to join us.

Back at camp, we helped Chad and Danielle get set up and then the men started a forest fire. Not really, but they foraged enough wood that we certainly could have. We called it an early night, but never really slept. I worried all night that the wind gusts were going to pick up Chad's tent and twirl them in the air like a tornado. Scott laid wide awake listening to the whipping wind. Chad forgot a pillow and learned sleeping on a rolled up jacket leads to a kinked neck. And Danielle, the non-camper of the group, slept like a baby, while the rain soaked the outside of their tent. #unfair


Sunday morning, we crowded around the camper, snuggled under blankets, feeling the heat of Mr. Buddy, sipping coffee with yogurt chips (oh wait, that was just Chad), and smelling the fried bacon Mr. B was cooking on the stove. Then bundled up and went for a walk to take in the views, snap selfies and let Danielle practice with her new camera.

More friends joined us later in the day, so we wandered the water front again, let the dogs romp around, took way too many group photo attempts, sat fire side and let Sam serenade us. Who knew elevation could change the sound of your voice? Perhaps the lack of oxygen has something to do with that. These pals even brought along a personalized birthday cake that we all devoured. It was the perfect end to a ridiculously windy and chilly weekend. But those views, friends and stories, made it totally worth it. Thanks for making me feel so loved.


Until next year, Wyoming.
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...