Hot Is The New Cold. July 2018.

We spent most of the winter trying to keep ourselves warm in the van. We did things like: drive to Mexico, drive to Florida seven hundred times, stay in ridiculous campgrounds with electricity (and meth labs) so we could run our heater. Well, those days are over, goddamn it. It’s summer. It’s our time, now. Or so we thought.

Turns out, not so much. We have the same problem, but in reverse. What had happened was…

We spent a week at the beach in Lewes, Delaware having fun with my family.  Except for the part when our dog, Frances, basically maimed my brother’s dog, Herman. It was terrible. We feel awful. I can’t even talk about it. He’s ok-ish now, though, and we’re pulling for him.


This is Frances looking harmless. She’s not. Any tips on what to do about her dog aggression are greatly appreciated. 

Despite the trauma of dog-on-dog violence, we had a great time with the family. This is where I would normally post some pictures, but we didn’t take any. This always happens. My family never takes pictures. Aside from my brother’s wedding pics, there are like 6 photos in the world of my immediate family. And we’re all wearing the same clothes because they were all taken on the same weird vacation. I’m smoking in one photo. I think my brother is playing a slot machine in another. Both of those pictures are displayed prominently at my mom’s house. Why? Slim pickings. That’s why.

Anyway, there was a ridiculous heatwave going on while we were in Delaware. This is a problem when you live in a van with a French Bulldog. French Bulldogs are very dramatic in the heat. Very. Especially Wembley. Yes, we have AC in the van when we’re plugged in, which is fantastic. But even with the AC running, we’re scared to leave them in the van unattended when it’s that hot. I mean, what if a fuse blows? Then they’re stuck in a sweltering metal box of death. So, yeah, now hot is our problem.

We (bravely) spent a day or two hosing Wembley down and pushing him around town in a stroller so we could visit as many of our friends in Lewes as possible. But with temps hovering around the 100 degreee mark, we had to call it.


We even camped for a night at the one and only CrossFIt Lewes. Thanks, Kris!!! We feel fitter already. And Tommy, I haven’t forgotten your infamous box jump move. I will pay you back someday.

We finally gave up on trying to keep Wembley alive. No, we didn’t kill him or sell him. Don’t be ridiculous. We got on the Cape May Lewes Ferry and headed North. We didn’t stop until we got to Newport, RI, where, by the way, the temperatures were so much more reasonable! Wembley perked right up. Plus, we ate these things called clamcakes (which are like big clam fritters fried in beef fat) that I think might only exist in Rhode Island. Amazing. I’m a fan.


Clamcakes from Aunt Carrie’s in Narragansett, RI. Jennifer has never looked so happy. 

We picked Newport because I’ve always wanted to see the gilded age mansions they have there (you know we love house tours, no?). Newport did not disappoint. We toured The Breakers, Marble House, and Rose Cliff in the  two days we were there and they were all phenomenal. Plus, we learned that we have a lot in common with the Vanderbilts and the Asters and all the other gilded age all-stars. They basically had homes all over the world and would just travel around constantly, following the seasons. They would build these outrageous homes all over the place and only spend a few weeks a year at each one. A peripatetic life is what they call it. That’s us, too! Peripatetic AF.



After Newport, we invited ourselves to driveway surf for a while at Jennifer’s mom’s house in Vermont. Very relaxing. Beautiful weather. Lots of hiking. Stellar wifi. A very necessary and fulfilling rest stop for us.

And, finally, we’re back in Maine. Posted up in Acadia National Park (again) where the temperatures are mostly in the high 70’s. We’re trying out all the different campgrounds in the park this time. Our new favorite is Schoodic, on the quiet side of the island. Very classy. Coincidentally, our friends from Cincinnatti were also visiting Acadia so we managed to intrude on their vacation in much the same way we’re always showing up at their house. Good times!


Great looking bunch. At Echo Lake Beach in Acadia.


Wembley doing better. This little guy LOVES Maine.

Now, we’re hiking our butts off and trying to come up with a plan for how to spend the next few weeks. We’re thinking about heading up into Nova Scotia. We don’t really have anywhere to be until September. The only thing holding us back is that we need to be somewhere with really good wifi so we can stream the CrossFit games for like four days in a row during the first week of August. Because we’re dorks. Probably there is some technology that would allow us to do this (reliably, in Canada,) but we don’t know what that is. Because we’re not dorky enough. Anyone with ideas, please let us know.

Whiplash Eurobash June 2018

So, summer is cruising right along. Our posting habits have not changed. Shocker. The plan is to catch you up with multiple posts. Here’s the first one.

We started things off in June with a trip to Europe. No silly, of course we didn’t take the van! We took a plane. Like normal people.


Day one.

It was a 12-day whirlwind trip with our young friend, Trace, who turned twenty somewhere in Athens. If you ever have the opportunity to travel with a twenty-year-old superstar, I highly recommend doing so. This kid was amazing. He kept us entertained, navigated for us with his space phone, and carried the backpack through Athens, Venice, Florence and Rome. (Trace, if you’re reading this, we sincerely hope you had a good enough time to come and check on us occasionally in our quickly-approaching, doddering and childless old age. This is sort of our retirement plan. Not even kidding. So, all the kids we know out there- get ready.)


Our young friend Trace. He’s the one in the hat.

We crammed as much as possible into twelve days and he never flagged. Here are some of the highlights: the  Acropolis, The Acropolis Museum, a bus tour to some Mycenaen ruins and the Theater of Epidaurus, a walking food tour of Athens (featuring water-buffalo rice pudding), checking out the loot from Agamemnon’s tomb, a rooftop airbnb in a palazzo in Venice, a boat trip to Murano and Burano, a happy hour cicchetti walking tour in Venice (it was a blast, check out our host’s other services. Seriously. Elena rocks.), some bartender named Pepe (also in Venice), Doge’s Palace, St. Mark’s Basilica, vaporetto rides, Il Duomo di Firenze, aperitivo in Santo Spirito, a Tuscan wine tasting day trip, Pompeii, the Vatican, two Crossfits, Trevi Fountain, the Colosseum, so many trains, so many airbnbs, so much food, so much wine. We’d do it again in a heartbeat.



We’ve been to Athens and Rome before, and we love them both. Based on the reports of pretty much everyone we know, we were prepared to tolerate Venice and fall in love with Florence. Not so much. Venice was the highlight of our trip, even though we were only there for a couple of days. Jennifer is talking seriously about moving there. (This is a not so uncommon phenomenon). I’m all for it. Theoretically. Ciao.


Jennifer. House hunting.