What do you get when you combine great customer service, beautiful weather, some sweet-and-salty deliciousness and a whole heap of corn kernels? A perfect fall day at Hill Ridge Farms.
Click here to read the rest of the post at My Convertible Life and learn more about what made this day so great -- and not at all itchy.
by Melissa
When I first moved to Raleigh a couple years ago, I learned pretty quickly how many great city parks there were in town.
That’s why when a new park opened near my house this summer, I had to check it out. It’s quickly become our go-to park. It has a GREAT playground, some actual shade structures and some nice walking and biking trails.
The only problem? The name...
Landfill District Park
Ok, I’ve been in marketing for over 10 years. I’ve named golf clubs, checking accounts and smaller things like newsletters. So I’m having a hard time figuring out why on Earth the park namers (marketers or not) decided that using the word “landfill” in the name of a park where kids play was smart. I mean, it’s LITERAL I guess but marketing isn’t about being literal.
Truthfully the name isn’t the only thing that might scare people away. When you drive in, you’re greeted with a chain link fence and these...
Yes, tires. Then you actually drive AROUND THE LANDFILL. Maybe it should be obvious from the name that there was a landfill at the park. But I naively thought that maybe it USED to be a landfill or something. I didn’t expect to drive around a huge mound covered in grass to get to the park.
Before you click away from this page and say “Gee, Mel, way to sell me on this new park!”... let me show you these:
A new modern (and CLEAN) bathroom, complete with shade structure and benches.
A “little kid” play structure and a couple of baby swings.
And a cool rock climbing thing, a rope tower and a play structure for the bigger kids.
Now, isn’t that better? There’s also a few walking and biking trails.
The kids don't seem to mind the name. Big Roo would have only flinched if the name had Doody or Toot in it (ah, boys).
If you can get past the name (and the fact that it’s behind the landfill), then this is your park. In fact, the dreaded name must not be scaring away all that many people. It seems to be relatively busy anytime I’ve been there.
I’ll go there. A lot, in fact. Just if someone ever asks me what park I like to take my kids to, I’ll have to always follow the name Landfill District Park with a rambling explanation of how, no really, it’s a great park!
If you ever want to join me, here's more info about the park.
When Melissa isn't critiquing the names of otherwise great parks, she's blogging about motherhood, the outdoors and marketing at Adventuroo.com.
I love looking at Our State magazine and watching shows about all the out of the way secret adventures in North Carolina. The Tarheel Traveler on WRAL is one of my favorite spots to catch, and not just because of Bill's lovely guitar lick on the introduction. UNC-TV also has great shows on the out of the way, easy to over look, quaint, and very cool things to do in North Carolina.
In sitting in front of one of these, I found myself mooning over the New Hope Valley Railway. It's just a 30 minute drive from our home near North Hills, and was tons of fun for a two year old boy. That of course translates into tons of fun for the whole family.
The railway runs the first Sunday of every month. It's the only open air railway in the state. I knew I was taking a chance by booking tickets for July, but I lucked out and was granted one of the last bearable outdoor days we have here in North Carolina.
There is a railway museum, a hot dog vendor (or maybe it was BBQ), some porta-potties, and usually some lovely small town live music in the gazebo. It's just a nice day all around. We caught the 11:00 AM train, which was the diesel engine. Papa, who had read every single sign we passed on the trip over, was happy to have something to complain about, seeing as he would have preferred the steam engine. The railway switches engines every hour.
There were lots of smiling engineers who waved at all of the children, not in the creepy zombie like Thomas the train way, but in an actual personable fashion.
I know it's last minute for the next ride, but it's probably too stinking hot to go this weekend anyway. September and October though, would be perfect months. If you've got little ones who love trains or love the outdoors, it's a great Sunday excursion.
An original Triangle Mamas post. This was not a sponsored post. Marty is not a reviewer and makes no apologies for the lack of detailed information in this post. She did bother to link to things, so there is that. You can find more of her vague and sporadic writing on her personal blog, Don't Take the Repeats. You can also follow her on Twitter, where her brevity is appreciated, or heck, just go ahead and friend her on Facebook. Y'all come back now, ya' hear?
By Kelly
This past weekend the family & I ventured out on our first camping trip. It was supposed to be Mother's Day weekend, but a stomach bug postponed the trip. My hubby & I had been anxiously awaiting this trip, and had talked for a few years now about when the right time would be to take a rising 3 year old - we could not have timed it better!
For starters, we are huge fans of the NC State Parks system, and now that you are able to make reservations online & via telephone, instead of "first come, first served," it makes planning that much easier. We selected Hanging Rock State Park for it's proximity from our home (less than 2 hour drive west) & the activities. They have plenty of well appointed family campgrounds & very easy access to water, bath houses, hiking trails, etc. For those that are feeling a bit more inclined to stay closer to the indoors, they even have cabins to rent!
by Abby
See this park.
Looking at this map, you'd never guess that this park is cloaked in an invisibility shield. You'd never know this because you would probably make all the right (or left) turns and end up zipping down the slide or flying in the swings in under five minutes.
I, on the other hand, fell victim to the park's invisibility shield for a full hour as I looped around and around just catching glimpses of what I knew must be the space in which the park was contained while never actually finding the entrance.
Sadly, I can't even use the excuse of it being in an unfamiliar neighborhood. This park is seriously right behind Local Yogurt and with as much time as I spend there, I should know my way around.
Instead, I will blame the trees which provided superior camouflage; the technology that was bombarding me (You try melding written directions from a friend with Google maps on your iPhone all while your GPS is screaming at you to "Turn around when possible."); the missing street sign on the corner; and what is obviously a secret government experiment in land disappearances.
Abby is constantly lost both on the actual road and on the road of life. But she does usually persevere and eventually finds her way. You can read about all her journeys at My Sweet Babboo or follow her ramblings on Twitter.
I don't want to sleep there, I'm not particularly interested in peeing there, and I certainly don't want to cook there, but I do love the woods. I love the Black Mountains specifically, and I love streams.
I'm not sure why we don't do more hiking. We have the dogs for it. We have the kid for it. We have the love for it. We just don't get around to it.
My husband, Kevin is a doer. There is always a project either in full swing or in planning mode. It is one thing I love about him. He finishes what he starts, and he starts big things. His plans are not lightly made nor are they easy to finish. Right now, he is adding onto the house. Just he and the contractor. When he comes home from work , he works some more. On the weekends, he's building. I'm excited for the new spaces, but I think I am more excited for him to finish so that I have some of his time and attention back.
All this to say, I think this is why we don't hike. We do things together as much as possible, but this is a stage in our life where Kevin is determined to get things in order. I love him for that. I miss him, but I love him.
While we were in the mountains recently, staying in Catawba Falls Preserve, I had him back to myself one day. He wanted to know what I wanted to do, and I chose this hike. We packed a backpack full of snacks, water, and diapers. The dogs got to tag along and tap into their inner hunters. Gibson, our chocolate lab, ran out about 10 feet ahead with his tail pointed straight up. He even helped corral Little Bird when he got too far ahead of us. Our English Setter, Aja, stayed on leash and ignored her bird dogs instincts in favor of reading the mail on the ground.
We missed a turn along the way - rather, I missed a turn, and we ended up about 40 minutes off track. Luckily, we had also packed our Babyhawk, so tired Bird could ride on his daddy's back when he got tired. And after playing nekkid in the creek for awhile?
Bird was really really tired.
It was a great day with my boys, my dogs, and a trail in the mountains.
When she isn't dreaming of her own mountain getaway, Marty blogs at Don't Take the Repeats. When she has less to say, she resorts to quipping on Twitter.
Dear New Pine Tree at the Koka Booth Amphitheater in Cary,
Congratulations on growing up in North Carolina, where you will be revered as an official state symbol. Nice work!
However, while I fully respect your right to live and grow and enhance the environment of the old North State, I question your specific location for putting down roots. Although it may not have been your personal choice, I hope you can understand my frustration.
Earlier this summer, my husband and I brought our almost-4-year-old son with us to see Cirque de la Symphonie. It was a fantastic show for the whole family, combining beautiful symphony music with spectacular acrobatics and circus performers -- but then, you already knew that since you had a much better view of the show than we did, as we were seated behind you and could barely see through or around your lovely fringed branches.
Yes, I know, we didn't get there the exact second the gates opened, as it seemed everyone else must have done. And I know we could still hear our wonderful state symphony no matter the view. But we arrived more than an hour and a half before the show was scheduled to begin, so it didn't seem like too much to ask that we be able to see the acrobats, dancers and jugglers as well. Sadly, the only spaces available were those with obstructed views (see photo -- note that we cannot see the stage at all).
Perhaps you may want to talk with your arbor crew about why they would intentionally plant a young, short and very full pine tree in the middle of the seating area? Seems like it's going to be a decade or more before you are tall enough to provide any noticeable shade without boxing out scores of people behind you. Not to mention that they planted you right between two other (much taller) pines, so I expect you're going to feel a bit crowded as you get older. Really, I'm only thinking of you.
I promise I am not opposed to trees, in fact I think they're quite lovely. And I'm not even opposed to trees at an amphitheater, provided they are tall enough that the branches don't block the view.
But seriously. It's an amphitheater. Why go out of your way to prevent guests from seeing the very stage they paid money to see?
Sincerely,
Cyndi
P.S. Very sorry about your 14 friends that were recently removed from my yard. It's nothing personal, I promise. I just really like an open view.
An original Triangle Mamas post. When Cyndi isn't complaining about nature or hiring lumberjacks, she can be found blogging about all sorts of non-tree-related things at Junius & Pippi Take the Cake.
I'm not sure at what point in a person's career path one decides to become a tree removal specialist. Does your guidance counselor suggest that your propensity for strapping spikes to your boots could be useful for climbing trees? Or do you just feel that being suspended in the air with a chain saw tied to your belt sounds like fun? Or maybe it's that conquering anything outside that's 90-feet tall beats tackling a 90-page pile of paperwork inside any day.
Either way, I'm thankful that someone else takes that path (however he or she gets there), because there is no way in hell I could do it. Not that I'm in the market for a new career at the moment anyway (seeing as there's all this laundry to do and dinner to make and research reports to write), but after watching the crew from Arbor Barber Tree Service at my house on Tuesday, I'm more certain than ever that it's not the path for me.
Once I recovered from the painful shock of seeing the first of 14 pine trees get decapitated, dismembered and ground into bits, it was quite an impressive performance. Like a really loud and slightly violent assembly-line choreography with this continuous flow of tree parts moving across my yard and out into the street. Each man worked his specialty area, whether in the enormous crane or up in the trees or down on the ground. From take-down to clean-up, it was a seamless process that moved surprisingly quickly.
So now that we're a month into hurricane season, if you're looking up at those tall pine trees wobbling around your yard and wondering how much wind it would take to knock one into your living room, call over to Arbor Barber and see if they can fit you into their schedule. And if you're thinking that hurricanes (or ice storms) don't affect us here in Raleigh, ask one of your neighbors if the name "Fran" means anything to them.
An original Triangle Mamas post. When Cyndi isn't basking in all her newly-available sunlight (wearing SPF30, of course), she can be found blogging at Junius & Pippi Take the Cake. It should also be noted that no compensation was offered or received from Arbor Barber Tree Service in exchange for this post.
It's Spring time in the Triangle and you know what that means: STRAWBERRIES! Whether you find yours at the Farmers' Market or you head out and pick your own, the time to do it is now.
Linus's playgroup ventured to a local farm right here in Durham County where the berries were sweet, the weekday crowds small, and the picking cheap. At $1.35 per pound, you can afford to be greedy.
Grab your buckets, baskets, and rainboots (if it's just rained) and get yourself to a farm.
They won't even mind if you taste a few.
Of course, the kids may be enthralled with the farm machinery far more than the berries but you'll be pleased either way.
If you've come here from the North, you might say that the Triangle doesn't get much snow. If you've come here from the Deep South, then you have seen the biggest snows of your life here. No matter where you were before you lived in North Carolina, one thing is always amazing about the snow.
It stops everything. School, work, errands, meetings, whatever, are all put on hold while we gather our bread, batteries, and milk and snuggle in to watch the snow fall. Then, we all bundle up the family in snow gear likely only used once or twice, and we go outside to play.
Snow days are my favorite days.
From Triangle Mamas to you, Happy Snow Day!
Marty and her family
Abby and her family:
Nikki and her family:
An original Triangle Mamas post.
Recent Comments