Traveling with our crowd…seven children, Mom and Dad, and the furry kid on our recent trip to the Oregon coast…is like moving an army, with all the baggage, food, and other accoutrements required for a pleasant journey. As the quartermaster (mistress?), I must plan carefully to make it work, and to make it all fit in the vehicle! Reflecting on our latest trip, I thought of a few ideas for a new Top Ten list.

1. Don’t wait till the day before to pack. When you start dreaming of a trip, then start keeping lists as ideas pop into your head. If you are leaving on a Saturday, find a spot to put your things and begin gathering supplies in one place early in the week, checking items off the list as they make their way into the pile. Remember that you will probably not use half of what you pack. I only read a couple of the dozen books I took with me :-).

Homer didn’t even finish one book. Every time he tried to read he fell asleep.

2. Think of some easy snacks to take in the car that you can pass around when everyone gets bored. I brought sandwich-sized ziploc bags to put goodies in to send to the back seats of the van when the natives got restless. We took trail mix, beef jerky, grapes, granola bars, and bottles of water. Gum is a nice treat for those old enough not to swallow it or stick in in their hair or their brother’s ear.

3. Provide some suitable entertainment while driving. I have a philosophical objection to playing DVDs in the car. I would rather my children look out the window at the new scenery, read a book, or have a conversation. I will not hold it against you if disagree. I do, however, bring audiobooks, sermons and talks, and music on my iPod which connects to the car’s stereo system.

4. Plan activities, but leave some down-time, too. Most of us are so busy in our everyday lives that it seems unnatural and even a waste of precious travel time to not jam as much as possible into a trip. It takes effort to relax. I admit that I did not achieve my goal of enjoying myself with abandon as much as I hoped, but some of the best moments of our trip were spent just staring at the ocean and listening to the pounding of the waves.

5. Keep meals simple and use the grocery store. It helped that we had a kitchen and an entire home away from home on our fabulous vacation. We only ate out a couple of times, and those were not our favorite meals while we were gone. The best meal was a picnic in the car. We had visited Fort Clatsop, where Lewis and Clark’s westward journey ended, and we intended to have a picnic at the park there, but found that a nameless someone had forgotten to pack the bagels we were going to eat with the salami and cream cheese. An executive decision was made to continue on to Astoria and look for a store to buy bread, but we had trouble finding a store until I spied a bakery in the distance. We made a beeline and bought some sourdough bread from the very hip (as in “hippie”) establishment, then drove to a nearby wharf to watch a lazy sea lion while we munched on our repast. The bread was amazing, and the car picnic was memorable with the entertaining wildlife watching. Another yummy meal was rotisserie chicken and bagged salad from the store. Eating on the road can be expensive, but it’s not necessary to have restaurant meals every day.

6. Alternate physical activities with more cerebral pursuits. We went to the beach almost every day and chased waves, flew kites, and hunted for sea shells. One day we took a 2 1/2 mile hike which was very strenuous. But we also visited a cheese factory, a maritime museum, an airplane museum, and an historic fort. Even grown-ups can handle only so much information before it all blurs together. Make sure there are plenty of opportunities to stretch the legs as well as the mind.

7. Have some familiar, homely objects or rituals so that homesickness does not put a damper on your time away from home. A stuffed animal, pillow, book, or favorite movie (we do bring movies to watch once we get there) can help ease the unfamiliar transition to a new spot. I took my blankie and my pillow with me. Try to keep regular bedtimes as traveling can be wearing, and it’s not much fun when everyone is grumpy and on each other’s nerves because of not enough sleep.

8. Don’t put too much emphasis on making it “picture perfect.” If you do, you will put too many unrealistic expectations on your family and be disappointed. It’s easy to get grumpy with one another when thrown into close quarters for an extended period of time—keep things lighthearted and be ready flexible enough to change plans if necessary. When we got home, I laughed at most of the group pictures: I can remember cajoling and threatening to get everyone to look at the camera at the same time, let alone smile. I don’t think I have a single perfect picture. But we do have lots of happy memories of our vacation, and that’s better than having memories of Mommy fuming because she didn’t get her way.

After a long walk, nobody wanted their picture taken, and Homer wouldn’t even look at the camera.

9. Make new friends, try new experiences. Be spontaneous. Those enticing roads to explore, or interesting eateries that you chance upon, might be the brightest spots of your time away from home. We drank the best mochas at a hole-in-the-wall coffee house in Astoria. We were disappointed in the seafood dinner at a well-known tourist spot, but we prepared a delicious meal from the seafood counter in a nearby town. The kids took a couple of funny pictures of Mommy and Daddy trying to pick out some dried jerky to buy at the Road Kill Kafe. And since we had Homer with us, we stopped and talked to every corgi owner we met and took Homer’s picture with his new friends.

Homer met many new dogs and he is glad to find that he is not the only tri-color corgi in the world, though they are not a common sight. Being part of the Friedrich clan, he is used to being a little different and is glad to know there are kindred spirits in many places, though not always easy to find.

10. Don’t forget to use the opportunity of going away to remind your children that there is “no place like home.” The best part of every trip is coming back to the place you love best.

Not only was every detail of the house perfect—games in closet, books on shelves, beach toys in garage, s’more fixin’s in kitchen to use at outdoor fire pit, family DVDs to watch—but the decor was pretty nice, too. It had a beach theme, surprise. We added to the ambience by bringing in plenty of sand on our feet. They provided a handy vacuum for us to put all in order, though, before we left.

Each day we made a short trek down the country lane to the beach access. We had to scramble over some wobbly rocks to get to the sand, but that only added to the spirit of adventure. Each child found something special to occupy himself or herself: running on the beach, flying kites, hunting for shells and sand dollars and fossils, digging for clams, digging for China, chasing waves, or building sand castles.

This determined boy is one of the diggers. He is wearing a sweater knit by his mother, who is a very slow and still beginning knitter, but likes to see her children keeping warm in something she made. The label sewn inside, to distinguish front from back, says, “Made With Love by Mommy.”

The Mommy brought her knitting but didn’t touch it for more than a brief time on the drive north. Instead, she used her solitary moments to read a book, Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life by Barbara Kingsolver, et. al.

This is just one of the pictures from a beach “photo shoot” that Anna did with her sisters. They have fun fooling around with the camera and there were lots of cute pictures, but this was one of my favorites, because the mischievous looks mirror their personalities so well.

Every time we went to the beach, this guy went to work on a new castle. This was the first one. The last one he made sure to build far from the surf and in a place where we could see it when we looked over the hillside from our house. Each one had the requisite moat, and we were not allowed to leave until the moat was filled with water. This one would have filled with water on its own within an hour or so, but after all that work, it would have been unkind to mention it.

One of the highlights of our fabulous trip was getting to enjoy the fabulous spa every day. The view from the other direction was the ocean view I showed in the last post. Sitting in the warm, bubbly water was magical with the cool sea breeze around us and the roar of the waves nearby. Yes, I got in the spa, too. No, I’m not posting a picture.

Good old Moby Pickle. We have been tempted to put him out to pasture, but he’s still got some steam left and is in amazingly good condition for his vintage. We did have to get his air conditioner fixed before we could take him through the central valley’s smoke and heat, but his eight cylinders did a fine job hauling seven children, one corgi, and all their stuff through the mountains and all the way to the beach. Every time we go on a trip, everyone expresses doubt that everything will fit in the vehicle. Every time we go on a trip, I make it work.

The smoke around home has dissipated, but there is still plenty of it around Mount Shasta. On the way there, this is what it looked like through our car window. On the way home, we could barely make out the massive mountain’s outline. We sang quite a bit along the road (it’s corny, but we do it, including the old standards “Found a Peanut” and “Johnny Rebeck’s Machine”), but I wish I had thought of belting out “On Top of Old Smoky” as we passed Shasta.

The first night we had an overnight break in Medford. The seedy motel (it wasn’t really that bad, a Shilo Inn) made us even more anxious to reach our destination. The second day, we stopped for lunch in Salem, after picking up some sandwich fixin’s and cookies at Costco. We met Grandma at a park by the riverfront, where there is the most amazing carousel: hand-carved horses, each one adopted by a different individual or family and with special ornamentation planned by its owner. My children love it every time we go. Baby Braveheart is beaming atop his noble steed. At the park’s playground, we witnessed a young man proposing to his sweetheart, near the playset. When we realized what was happening, and we could see the young lady’s acceptance, we all burst into applause and hurrahs. I think they will remember that and have a story to tell their children :-).

While driving through the Portland area, we realized we were very close to the church where Steve and I were hitched 27 years ago. Some things are still the same, like the location and the fact that famous evangelist Luis Palau is a member. Some things are changed, like the very emergent emphasis it now has…I remember when they did a study on Rushdoony’s book Tithing and Dominion. We, of course, haven’t changed at all.

This is the view when I had the courage to look into the back seats. Nobody ever asked, “Are we almost there?” Really. Or maybe I blocked that part out.

When we arrived at the fabulous beach house, we were bowled over. You can see them toppled like bowling pins in the picture. When the blinds over those big windows were opened, we had a fabulous view.

This was the view. My 12-year-old son told me that he thought “ocean view” meant we would have a distant glimpse of the sea. We could see the sea as far as we could see. It was, ahem, breathtaking.

Make your own here.

See some more pictures of our fabulous family vacation tomorrow.

When I walk about my brown (not green) acres, there are two plants that are both blessings and cursings, depending on my mood and where they take root. Those are the ones I will share for my first entry of my 100 Species Challenge.

Verbascum thapsis, more commonly known as common mullein (pronounced “mull-in”) is pervasive here, even though it’s an illegal immigrant to California (no comment, please). It’s not an unattractive plant. It begins it’s life with a pretty rosette pattern, growing low to the ground, producing softly fuzzy leaves similar in texture to lamb’s ears (the plant, not the frolicking animal). As it grows, it proceeds into leggy adolescence, gaining in stature until it is a tall stalk. When it reaches maturity in its second year, it blossoms (lots of metaphors in the plant world, aren’t there?) at the top with a spike of clumped yellow flowers.

I have known for some time that mullein leaves have been used medicinally for lung ailments, including asthma and bronchitis, by making a tea out of the fresh or dried leaves. I didn’t know that the flowers could also produce a tea with “strongly soothing, sedative properties.” I may have to change my mind about throwing so many of my mullein plants on the compost pile. I believed that the Indians used furry mullein leaves for covering wounds, but the article I found says that they are irritating to skin, which is why some women rubbed them on their cheeks to redden them, earning the plant the nickname “Quaker Rouge.” I’ve also heard that Indians used the dried mullein stalks, perhaps rubbed with pine sap, as a kind of torch.

Well that’s enough information about that…let’s move on to Rubus species, blackberries. I have to keep pulling these little suckers out of my garden, but I kind of regret that we had a lot of them removed from other parts of our property, as they are ripe here now and the only ones we have are in hard-to-get places. I love homemade blackberry jam, even though the wild variety tend to have lots of seeds. It makes a nice addition to my Christmas baskets. We may ask our neighbor if she has any bushes she hasn’t eradicated that we can raid for some ripe berries, and we will give her some jam.

In Oregon, where I grew up, they grow a variety of blackberries on purpose that produce huge berries: Marionberries, named after the county where I lived, not after the controversial former mayor of the city where my father and stepmom now live, and which is filled with Bushes and other invasive species I wish we could eradicate.

According to one website:

The blackberry is also the symbol of envy, lowliness, and remorse. This is because its thorns can catch you, trip you up, and hold on to you.

Blackberry bushes and other brambles can take over a habitat and choke out other plants, the way an greedy person may try to take things from others. So people in Shakespeare’s day called lawyers bramble bushes, because they grab on to you and don’t let go until they’ve drawn blood.

Seems like the plant metaphors abound, just like my brambles. Since it’s such an abundant source of free food right now, I’m not complaining about them too much, even though they bring to mind Shakespeare’s bramble allusion and the criminal class on the east coast which causes me to see free food as a blessing not to be despised, seeds, thorns, and all, as the grocery bill seems to double every time I go to the store.

I leave this botanical post with a sweet old poem I found about a little girl’s blackberry-picking misadventure. It reminded me to be a little more patient with my children’s childish foibles as they try so hard—sometimes too hard, resulting in calamity—to please.

Phebe, The Blackberry Girl
by Edward Livermore

“Why, Phebe, are you come so soon?
Where are your berries, child?
You cannot, sure, have sold them all,
You had a basket piled.”
“No, mother, as I climbed the fence,
The nearest way to town,
My apron caught upon the stake,
And so I tumbled down.

“I scratched my arm and tore my hair,
But still did not complain;
And had my blackberries been safe,
Should not have cared a grain.

“But when I saw them on the ground
All scattered by my side,
I picked my empty basket up,
And down I sat and cried.

“Just then a pretty little Miss
Chanced to be walking by;
She stopped, and looked pitiful,
She begged me not to cry.

“‘Poor little girl, you fell,’ said she,
‘And must be sadly hurt;’
‘Oh, no,’ I cried; ‘but see my fruit,
All mixed with sand and dirt.’

“‘Well, do not grieve for that,’ she said;
‘Go home, and get some more.’
‘Ah, no, for I have stripped the vines,
These were the last they bore.

“‘My father, Miss, is very poor,
And works in yonder stall;
He has so many little ones,
He cannot clothe us all.

“‘I always longed to go to church,
But never could I go;
For when I asked him for a gown,
He always answered, “No.

“‘”There’s not a father in the world
That loves his children more;
I’d get you one with all my heart,
But, Phebe, I am poor.”

“‘But when the blackberries were ripe,
He said to me one day,
“Phebe, if you will take the time
That’s given you for play,

“‘”And gather blackberries enough,
And carry them to town,
To buy your bonnet and your shoes,
I’ll try and get a gown.”

“Oh, Miss, I fairly jumped for joy,
My spirits were so light;
And so, when I had leave to play,
I picked with all my might.

“‘I sold enough to get my shoes,
About a week ago;
And these, if they had not been spilt,
Would buy a bonnet, too.

“‘But now they’re gone, they all are gone,
And I can get no more,
And Sabbath I must stay at home,
Just as I did before.’

“And, mother, then I cried again
As hard as I could cry;
And looking up, I saw a tear
Was standing in her eye.

“She caught her bonnet from her head,
‘Here, here,’ she cried, ‘take this!’
‘Oh, no, indeed - I fear your ma
Would be offended, Miss.’

“‘My ma! no, never; she delights
All sorrow to begile;
And ’tis the sweetest joy she feels,
To make the wretched smile.

“‘She taught me when I had enough,
To share it with the poor;
And never let a needy child,
Go empty from the door.

“‘So take it, for you need not fear
Offending her, you see;
I have another, too, at home,
And one’s enough for me.’

“So then I took it - here it is -
For pray what could I do?
And, mother, I shall love that Miss
As long as I love you.”

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