Dutch Waffles, A Family SECRET---and CAKE!

Maria and I have loved tradition, raising our seven children required many traditions, including but not limited to, flapjack Friday's, movie nights (Netflix and Rentals), camping, travel, and last, but not least, Dutch Waffles. 

I was introduced to Dutch Waffles back in the mid nineties. Maria's mom, respectfully known as, Oma, loved to create these heavy, sugary cakes around the Christmas Holiday. I remember distinctly the year that we started this tradition with Oma. That year she had gone through a triple heart bypass and Maria worried for her mother's state of mind and brought up the fact that we could make waffles to help cheer her up. Now in my head I had the vision of a breakfast "Belgian" waffle, loaded with butter and maple syrup with the potential of a side of sausage. To my surprise, this Dutch delicacy was the furthest thing from that, in both taste and texture.

We first received a list of ingredients, scrawled on a  piece of paper in Oma's handwriting mixed with both Dutch and English words. We purchased everything on the list, Maria, being the translator of it. Oma, waited patiently at home. When we arrived, paper bags loaded and heavy with the "secret" ingredients, Oma rummaged through the bags, ensuring that everything was accurate. Success, we got her approval. 

Oma, a usually quiet and reserved woman, began pointing out directions. I scurried through the house, following Maria's lead, because it was new and I was being let in on this secret that no one, but Oma, and now, me and Maria, had been keen on. To this day, I believe Maria, me, and now my own children know the recipe, no one else paid attention, we win.

The heavy waffle iron looked like a piece of equipment that belonged in an industrial kitchen. I schlepped it out to the table, ran a heavy extension cord, and the process began. I have always been obsessed with food, and was so intrigued as Oma gave me direction on mixing the ingredients, blending them together and watching her pour in some of the liquid required for the mix. I then blended it further "for consistency" Oma said, and watched as she stuck a finger in the ingredients and said that the mix was ready. Maria was at the table, her sister, to her right, who also had a part, waiting patiently for her task at hand.

The waffle iron was steaming, the red light went off as it reached temperature and Oma took her seat at the left side of Maria, watching and giving her input. Maria sprayed the iron, poured in the first scoop of Dutch waffle mix and the tradition had begun, years and years of tradition. Maria's sister cut the extra from the edges, cutting them in half, and Oma placed them in containers. Dutch waffles are best eaten chilled, not warm, and with butter on each cake. The butter brings out each delicious bite. Some Dutch people like a chocolate or fruit sprinkle, known as Hagelslag, on top of the buttery layer.

Oma let me in on another secret, using the same ingredients of the Dutch Waffle, it was a cake, loaded with sugary goodness, enough to put a non-diabetic into a diabetic coma if moderation wasn't heeded. We made that cake one year with Oma, it had to be at least eight layers tall (the taller the cake the more success), mocha frosting, an apricot center between each layer, and sprinkled with Dutch Hagelslag. This was Oma's last time ever making the cake prior to her death in October 2002. 

When Oma passed, it took a year from her passing and much sadness, to begin our own family tradition with the Dutch Waffle Recipe, which I made a promise to her not to share with anyone. It was an homage to Oma's legacy of Christmas tradition, and Maria and I felt it necessary to share with our own children. This was a tradition that we have done off and on for years, and although I don't have a picture of the waffles after the creation, we recreated the Dutch Cake and I found an archived photo of the cake in its glory. The picture below was only seven layers, we dared not add more!

A future Dark Nest Travels video will feature these Dutch Waffles , brought back full circle as our adult children come over on Christmas Eve and share in their Oma's Dutch Tradition.

We miss you Oma, this year's Dutch Waffle creation is for YOU!

Semi-Retirement...Life Ship..."LIKE" VS. "PURCHASE"

So, as many of you know, it's official, I am semi-retired. The definition is loose, so I'll leave it up to your imagination. It's a little uncanny when I've been working a large part of my life, and now, I'm relaxed, to a point. I've been challenging myself to write, that's what I truly love doing. Sometimes, though, I really have to kick my own a** to get into gear. I've had many suggestions to write something less graphic, less shocking...something with emotion, something that strikes the nerves of my readers who don't have the stomach for my "other" fiction. My horror often strikes nerves, but it typically involves being terrified to pick the book back up, unless, of course, that is the selected genre.

I took this request, of writing something "normal", from family, friends and readers alike, very serious. I've even posted some of Life Ship on this blog, which I've taken down, due to the potential publication of the story. I worked with a good friend of mine to edit, he's the best, with a critical eye and I couldn't have done it without him, thank you Brent Seth! Lake Leviathan took a risk with me to publish a "short story" in paperback. (a quick 36 page read)

This is a story that was inspired by our 1964 Airstream Globetrotter and my overactive imagination. It's a sentimental tale of death, love, family, and the anchors of memory through the eyes of the main character, Jimmy, the youngest of four. He's pressed with the task of his parents' wishes, and takes it on, head first. He's faced with the emotions of loneliness on the road as he treks through the United States to make it back to his hometown of Stevats. On the journey he connects with his siblings who have already jumped into life, where his life, being the youngest, had not too long ago, started.

I know most of my friends on facebook and other social media sites "like" my posts, my links, hell, some of you even watch my Dark Nest Travels videos posted weekly. I'm "semi-retired" now, and doing what I love, writing, travel, at times, and enjoying the holidays for the first time in a very long time. So I'm encouraging all of you to support me, if you believe in my skills, know my story, and realize how long creative endeavors can take to complete, to purchase your copy. Press "like" if you want, but press purchase on the Amazon page, and splurge knowing you're supporting the skills I have to truly connect with my readers.

Take the risk, if you can call it that, take a chance and give me the benefit of the doubt, you're out only $6.99 (that's a steal). Thank you all for reading my blog, watching my videos, and mostly for being you. Each and everyone of you have done something in my life to make a connection and I appreciate all those connections. Happy reading! I'll talk to everyone soon!

Click here to PURCHASE: Life Ship (Amazon)

Maria, November 27th, This is for YOU!

It’s November 27^th, and my wife, Maria, celebrates her birthday. We’ve spent many years’ together, celebrating, loving, and raising our family. I couldn’t have done any of these things if I didn’t have those years to share with her. She is my light, she is my cornerstone, and in this life her existence is what I needed to ground me to the reality of our marriage, children, and home(s) that we’ve made together.  We’ve been up at our highest, down at our lowest, in moments of sadness, and have overcome many obstacles that rip on emotions like a tornado rips through houses and neighborhoods, and she kept it together for me and what matters to her the most, her family.

I sometimes ask why I deserve such a prodigious woman in my life. A woman who constantly puts her needs in front of those in her family. A woman who encourages me to get off my procrastinating butt and write, achieve, and plan for our future together, growing old together, and nurturing further on this adventure. Words, although beautifully articulate, cannot really express the love I have for Maria, but I do my best to give her these. Thank you so much, Maria, my bride, my angel in disguise, for being my rock, and for loving me and the family we’ve raised together. I love you!

Nataia Calloway -- A Life Gone too Soon

I have taken a small break, until now, for a reason. The world lost someone very special to many people. A young person who struggled and fought a disease that chose her. She was a hard working young person who had started her career in college, which ended too short, to fight the disease that eventually took her life from everyone around her. Nataia was a loving, caring daughter, sister, and friend to many who she has touched on such a personal level, she forever had a listening ear. She was hard working, and had a strong will for life. She had a smile on her face, always. She had compassion in her life for those around her, and it was endless.

I heard the news and my heart broke, it was shattered because in retrospect this young Nataia grew up around me, through her mom, Jen’s, stories. I had the honor of working with Jen in the backroom for many years. It was a privilege to work with someone that had the same interest in family on the level that she had. She spoke about Nataia and her son, Kadeem, endlessly, and we shared many stories of our family life in between the job. So in a sense her children grew up around me. The look in Jen’s eyes, a sparkle, really, was the love she had, I knew this. Jen smiled often, laughed, and her love was so deep for her children.

When I heard of Jen’s loss, I couldn’t believe it, a close friend had lost someone who she’d fight and die for. Nataia, who will never be replaced in Jen’s life, and my thoughts were broken and dark realizing that Jen was facing this; I’m sure, with such a heavy heart, and many sleepless nights thereafter.  I cried for her loss, I’m sad for Nataia’s family and friends. Jen has a strong connection with people and a hard work ethic that is incomparable to those around her and to have this precious piece of her heart gone is a heavy burden. Jen’s empathy for others often far outweighed her own sadness or problems and I pray for her continuously through this loss, through these times that may create doubt in her mind of many things. The questions, the endless pain, will, with the love of her family and friends, help to make it easier, but never bring Nataia back.

Nataia, in Jen’s life was a shining force, and she earnestly inherited it from being raised by a mother who had much love and compassion for that which meant the most to her, her family. A piece of that family is missing, a piece that is Nataia, and the piece can never be retrofitted, but only thought about often, her memories still a strong presence in the lives she touched. She was needed somewhere and the need caused a big hole in the heart of many. Nataia, on your journey, you will always be thought about, you will forever create tears that travel down our cheeks, and your wings can now be spread far and wide to reach the place we all dream about, the place called home. Thank you, Jen, for touching my life and sharing your family with me, and thank you Nataia for being a smiling face to me whenever I’d see you.

Nataia Calloway - February 21st 1998 - November 5th 2018

1985, Cherished Memories, and Wood Grain

Autumn weather does something to me, it inspires me, it takes me on a journey down the road of the past. Yes, the past. Our heads are full of memories, traditions, and it's my way of making "time" travel happen. It takes me to a simpler time, one without Blogs like this one, Videos like the videos I post (although there are many home videos that exist from this time buried in time capsules throughout our house), and social media. Our minds are the time machine, and I travel in it quite often, and my dad, he's full of time travel. He's a connoisseur when it comes to turning back the clock, selecting a memory or family member, and talking about that time line that we walked in our younger years.

My dad was the first to fine tune my mind to technology, so he's partly to blame (thank) for my infatuation with the newest gadget, which as I get older they become less enticing, unless I can use them as a tool to get somewhere, i.e. our travels. I remember the excitement with our family when he brought home a large camcorder, the first we've ever seen. It had a microphone that wasn't a "dead cat" just a large boom that looked like the end of a cattail. It required full VHS tapes, and arms of steel to hold the thing because it was so heavy. There wasn't VHS-C, there wasn't 8mm, and there wasn't DVD camcorders, available to the common consumer, and the future was aeons away from inventing digital media. He introduced me to betamax, and his eventual relentless frustration with the video rental stores discontinuing renting beta and converting to VHS, vividly sticks out in my mind (remember DVD to BluRay?). He introduced me to the first VCR, wood grain and all, (something about the popularity of wood grain on vehicles and appliances), and it actually had a timer, so far ahead of its time (well before digital hard drives and DVR's). These inventions along with some of the best music and movies of my life, were all a great part of family times sitting around the television and sharing our fears as we watched a movie, a new release video tape, or a television series, yes, tv series that we couldn't binge watch.

I have to say he was probably inspired by his own father, my grandfather, Carl Eagle, pictured below. I heard tales of my grandfather's creations. He was born in 1914 and left us in 1985. The things he saw, the inventions and innovative automobiles of his time had to be mind blowing as well as the electricity in its infancy during his impressionable years. He jumped into all of it , he had a dying urge to learn and learn he did. He taught my own dad about electricity, and who better to teach than a man who watched these inventions unfold into a world that never had it?

I owe a lot to that man, for one, he created my father. The picture above was how I remember him, although he wasn't smiling, he wore a green work uniform and it appears, in this picture, that he nicked himself shaving .

I was in middle school, seventh grade. I walked to the bus stop which happened to be near my grandfather's house, a mile or so down the road from my house. I'd stop in and visit him, leaving my house early every morning, to talk. He'd always be up, his television murmuring in the background and always seemed pleased that I'd stop by. October is the month I remember most, the month we connected. I told him that I'd be trick or treating, and he laughed saying that he wanted to collect colorful leaves and put them in sandwich bags and pass them out. He was joking of course. Having low blood sugar he had to watch his candy intake. I remember talking to him about everything and listening to him. I liked to hear him laugh. The school year progressed, conversations resumed, and before I knew it December rolled around. I remember getting home and looked at his house. I wanted to go in, but hesitated because something seemed off. I went home and found out the news that he was in the hospital with pneumonia. I remember hearing the phone ringing and conversations about "Ed's dad" dying, as my mom dialed everyone on our home phone. I cried in my bed, because I didn't get the opportunity to know my grandfather as I could have. I cried because I was just getting curious about my family and at that point realized I never would know him that way, only through stories told to me by my dad.

What I did know about my grandpa was that he was a crane operator, operated mostly behind the old Dairy Queen that was on Military Street in downtown Port Huron. He had retired as I was growing up. He loved gadgets, this I know, by strolling to the musty barn at the back of his property, that once housed pigs. I remember seeing a coffee pot switch which he converted into a night light. It was stuck into a plug socket and glowed orange. He loved to weld, I still have a couple playground things that still exist today, albeit replacing the wood that rotted over time. He owned property, sold property, built houses, one which still exists in Gladwin, where our cabin was built, and one where my dad finished growing up in, the house I visited with frequency. I remember the chickens that he used to raise for meat, and the family barbeques at his house, the smell of his home grown chicken, rotisserie style, rolling slowly over a charcoal grill that he constructed out of brick.

I wish I'd gotten to know more about the man as I grew up, but didn't. I do get to live vicariously through my dad as he talks with pride about my grandfather, and that's better than nothing at all. I do know that the December he died Christmas was sad, because he wasn't around to share it with us anymore, and that I couldn't talk with him or grow up with him in my life. I remember the last Christmas present I got from my Grandpa, it was a gadget, they were battery operated headphones, only for radio, but they were awesome. I still have them stuffed away in a trunk of youthful treasures and get them out from time to time, they still operate, as far as I know. I think about him often when Autumn is in the air, and wonder how life would have been if he'd lived five, or even ten more years. The eighties were times of innovation for my own development, as well as all those intricate household items that I got to see as my dad continued to grant me access. I will forever cherish the knowledge my grandfather passed to my dad, and the knowledge my dad passes to me, and will hold them, and the memories, dear to my heart. Thanks, Grandpa, for being you, and thanks Dad for always being an inspiration in my life today!

Thanks for reading about our lives. Don't forget to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube and follow us on Instagram at: darknesttravels. Thanks for stopping by and keeping up to date on our life, in its genesis and the unfolding path that is just ahead.

Dark Nest Travels : Hiawatha, Aliens, Sasquatch and Soldier Lake

Close your eyes for a minute. Nevermind, bad idea, you wouldn't be able to read. Okay, close your eyes after reading the blog... a crisp serene body of water, fine ripples waft, there is no wake, but the deep sound of silence, except for a distant loon entering the ears. Imagine the array of colors hanging on the trees, bright reds, oranges, deep purples, the reflection mirrored off the serenity of the lake. Nature surrounds, and although wooded creatures were hidden out of view, they are sleepy and crawling through the forest surrounding the deep campground. Our third Airstream, a 1964 Globetrotter, is parked, nestled into an arboraceous deep lot. The place is Hiawatha National Forest on Soldier Lake. 

The Upper Peninsula has so much to offer, but the month of September, the very month we said our vows in 1996, is serene. Everyone's back to work, back to school, and people are a little less apt to travel and clutter up the natural beauty Michigan's Upper has to offer. We set off for our first Boondocking (for those of you not familiar, camping with only our battery and propane to self sustain life, AKA: dry camping), in 2014, visiting Hiawatha in her Autumn beauty.

We brought along our fishing poles, tossing a lure or two into the waters. Our camp chairs nestled on the sandy cattailed shoreline. We are not fisherpeople, so didn't catch anything, but the feeling of serenity that surrounded us, the calm demeanor that only nature tends to offer shrouded us. The sound of a loon laughing quietly echoing, and as we listened closer we could hear leaves rustling as a fine breeze whispered through the branches. We had each other, have each other, and we were content. We spent about five nights in this beautiful place, only three other campers sprawled out through the campground, all distant and quiet cocooned in their own comforts. 

Hiawatha is probably more packed during the heavy tourist months of summer, but at that moment we were a solitaire unit, in a wooded area with no electricity, there wasn't a city glow to take away the shine of the stars that blanketed the sky overhead, it was pitch black in the night, the embers of a campfire crackled, and there was peace. Peace because being in this solitude, without technology to distract, without the noise of our personal lives, helped us to relax, reflect, and realize that we loved this life and would do anything in the future to become Dark Nest Travels.

Thanks so much for coming along. If you're more of a visual person, our newest video of Hiawatha has been uploaded to our youTube channel, Dark Nest Travels, featuring Aliens and Sasquatches.

Thanks for reading about our lives. Don't forget to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube and follow us on Instagram at: darknesttravels. Thanks for stopping by and keeping up to date on our life, in its genesis and the unfolding path that is just ahead.

Dark Nest Travels : Labor Pains, Reprieve, and Metal

There's nothing quite like the crisp feel of Autumn. It's on the cusp as the air gets a little less humid, life seems to get a little more sleepy, and travel seems bleak at times. Labor Day weekend, although it has passed, is usually a start to come to terms with letting go of those day trips to the beach, camping, and barbeques seem to be fewer and far between. We like to celebrate Labor Day weekend with a last hoorah at Dark Nest.

The first major project my dad and I worked on at Dark Nest was running electricity and thirty amp power to some campsites. These are used by our family who come out and enjoy Memorial Day weekend and Labor Day weekend. We've been doing this since the inception of Dark Nest, and I wouldn't change it for the world. It's a sense of peace in the backyard of our property when I see the vast array of tents, RV's, and our family nesting for the weekend, whether it's to kick off summer or to end the summer and prepare for winter travel. It's become a tradition with many memories, one where we get together, have conversation, work on projects, sometimes a camper project or something else. Some of those weekends are spent relaxing and eating (how could I leave out eating?).

This year brought a sad reality to us. We recently lost my grandmother, Ruby, who I loved with all my heart. She enjoyed coming out to Dark Nest, because she loved her family, and it also brought back fond memories of when she used to attend a one room schoolhouse in her youth. She wasn't here this year, and didn't make it to Memorial Day weekend because she had passed in May, she travelled someplace far more beautiful, that someday we all get to see. It was a sad reality because all of my adult children have flown the nest, are doing their adulting in the world, and we missed them coming out to visit. My namesake was still here, our youngest, and we both took a reprieve, from relaxing, to attend his first concert. It was a lasting memory, one which I know we will never forget.

Everyone that entered Dark Nest in its beginning signed our chalkboard, here's my grandma's signature:

Raising seven children wasn't easy. It wasn't a walk in the park, and we did it. Our children are doing the things in life that they love to do, and we are very proud of each and everyone of them. Life has come full circle. We still continue our traditions, still talk about the trips we've all taken, and still continue to grow as a family. 

So, as my parents plan their escape to Florida, for the winter, and as we prepare the final "Eagle" in the nest to fly into his goals, into his own adult life, the sad, but happy, reality sets in, that Maria and I will be able to fly as well, next year. We'll be flying to destinations, mostly unknown, in the Mothership, changing our lifestyle, with adventure and bringing back full circle what we started with before commiting a life to parenthood, which will never end, and bring our marriage into new blossom. The traditions of life will continue, the memories of life will never fade, and our hearts will continue to beat each second we breathe the fresh air that is granted in our life.

Thanks for reading!

Newest youTube Video of  Dark Nest Travels at DTE and more... Click Here: FFDP & Labor Day Festivities!

Thanks for reading about our lives. Don't forget to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube and follow us on Instagram at: darknesttravels. Thanks for stopping by and keeping up to date on our life, in its genesis and the unfolding path that is just ahead.

Dark Nest Travels : A "Titan", Creepy-Crawlin' Backwards (in Time)

We were all teenagers, once, right? Well the laws of childhood development and chemistry points in that direction, so I guess that question is moot. I was a miserable teenager, a royal pain in my parent’s asses, so to speak. I was their only son, raised with my younger two sisters, so one could only imagine how obnoxious, how much of a pest, and how miserable, I could sometimes be, add the hormones of a teenager and you guessed it, pretty bad. I didn’t often get into trouble, kept my nose clean, or at least that’s what I had my mom and dad believe.

Sorry to get off topic....

My parents were a traveling inspiration to me, and since we made purchase of our 1995 Airstream Land Yacht motorhome, new to us,  I figured this was the perfect place to take everyone back to my youth. My parents were, at the time, recently camping in tents, in an old blue Dodge what my Dad dubbed, Turtle Top (I’m sorry dad if I don’t have the specks accurate), and a culmination of other things. They decided on a motorhome.

The one they were looking at was big, or at least as a pre-teen at the time, it appeared larger than life, and to my parents, it was an upgrade. It was a 1973 Titan Class A, with a Chrysler engine, a huge Chrysler engine that would typically, if my dad was lucky, get 6-9 miles per gallon. I remember the barrel chair that sat across from the couch. I remember them discussing it in the car and then making an offer.

It was exciting, thrilling, and I imagine my parent’s heads were spinning as to what they were getting themselves into. They wanted to travel with ease, and I totally didn’t see it due to my oatmeal kid’s brain. They wanted the convenience of travel and not stopping at a rest area, and if they did stop, they wanted to be able to actually rest.

The roaring of the engine, when my dad sat in the captain’s chair behind the wheel, invigorated me. The sound of the transmission as he put it into drive was all captivating. I sat in the passenger captain’s chair looking out to the paved country road ahead, through the larger than life windshield and out into the world as he pulled out and turned the behemoth out onto the road for the first time.

We took many trips with the motorhome, some of which I’ll talk about. It was a great inspiration to me and they travelled with us for many years after purchasing it. All the trips, the times I spent at the dinette in the back reading horror books when we travelled to the likes of Florida, through the Smoky mountains, stopping rustically to a state park, without electricity, it inspired me. At the time, it was not an inspiration, but hindsight forces me to be nostalgic and I took so much away from it. I took so much away from within, and it was through those windows, those eyeballs that the RV had, that I was peering out into the vast world of travel laid before me, and limitless opportunities if I put my head into the game of life. Thank you mom and dad! You created something in me that can never be shut off, and we owe that to you!

Here's a picture, albeit, not the original, but close enough, of the TITAN!

Newest youTube Video of  Dark Nest Travels... Click Here: Dark Nest Travels to the HOOD!

Thanks for reading about our lives. Don't forget to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube and follow us on Instagram at: darknesttravels. Thanks for stopping by and keeping up to date on our life, in its genesis and the unfolding path that is just ahead.

Dark Nest Travels : Flight from the Nest, School 2k18, & Family

It's that time of year again, where all the children begin their back to school endeavors. Academia, albeit, not for everyone, is there for the taking. On this past Friday, we had a bittersweet moment with our youngest daughter. She has grown up into adulthood, before our eyes, like so many before her, five to be exact, and has jumped from the nest, the "Dark Nest". We watch from a distance, now, as she spreads her wings and either takes off in a shaky half flight, or nose dives, whatever course of flight she decides, is hers to own. Some tears trickled down our eyes as she hugged us, smiled, and was on her way, but the tears were momentary, for her we are proud, proud of the hard work she's done to get what she wants, and we couldn't be more happy. Keep flying, keep flying, our shining daughter.

We have another bitter sweet moment, our youngest son, is a high school senior this year, he has a course of his own ahead. A thorny, sometimes, bitter, high school road ahead, that he'll accelerate in it, we're sure. He has a head for academia and will thrive this year to make it to his long term goals, i.e. college and more studying. He has made leaps and bounds in his life, and will continue to grow into an even smarter, hard working young man that he's already diligently being today.

It starts with love, no, you don't minimize it, you grow love by nurture, by memories, by living the life before you. It's a grand thing, really, most of us take it for granted. Some of us abuse it, and let it fly away. Some take on other things to deter from the love that has surrounded them. We held onto it, without reluctance, we only minimized those things around us, not people, not those we love. We moved into this one room schoolhouse, Dark Nest, to literally "nest" into our life, our marriage, and to watch the last of the younglings leave and fly to their own destinations. It's a good feeling, seeing children grow up before you, see them in flight, crash, get back up again, and spread their wings. It makes you realize that the love you've shown, as their parents, the love you've had for your marriage, has a return, a return of success, failure, and growing up, for us as well as our children. 

On minimizing, well, I do have to talk about it at some point, and will go into depth about it in the near future, either video or blog post. We've only minimized our debt, and the square footage of our living space, not some of the collectibles or antiques that surround us, it's our own way to minimize but enjoy some of the treasures, other than our family, along the way. 

Keep traveling, all of you, travel to our blog, to your marriage, with your significant other, your children, most importantly, keep traveling down the road of life and embrace it all! Never let love get away from you.

Watch the video tour of Dark Nest's exterior (make sure to subscribe, please, we're trying to reach 100) just click here: The Exterior Tour

Thanks for reading about our lives. Don't forget to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube and follow us on Instagram at: darknesttravels. Thanks for stopping by and keeping up to date on our life, in its genesis and the unfolding path that is just ahead.

Dark Nest Travels : Holly Pond, 42 lbs of Turkey, and the Grotto

There was a time in our history when Thanksgiving meant sitting around the table, eating dinner with family and talking about Christmas. That kind of evolved into something else with a history/job change (in the near future, 2003), but in 1999, it was still wholesome.

My grandparents moved away from the Upper Peninsula when they realized that it had become an inconvenience to live hundreds of miles from medical facilities. They traveled to many other places in exploration and my mom and dad often went with them helping to lead the expeditions. They decided to relocate to Holly Pond, Alabama. After many renovations that my dad and Grandpa had performed on the house, it was a quaint place for them to nest.

Alabama was moderate in climate, there were hospitals nearby, and the winters included none of the white fluffy stuff, or just a fluff that would disappear after a couple hours of the temps rising. The home they settled in still allowed for their privacy, set on a paved road but neighbors were still distant enough. In ninety-nine, we decided to take our kids to Holly Pond to visit and spend Thanksgiving. At the time I was working in a Cytology lab in Detroit, the midnight or "gravy" shift as some called it. I arrived home, got a few hours of sleep, and we loaded the Suburban with our travel gear and how could I forget, the monster turkey.

My cousin Tony was a farmer, he grew a large garden, raised farm animals, pigs, cows, turkeys and chickens. His family members always got first dibs on the turkey. The turkey he gave us weighed in, prepped and ready to bake, at forty two pounds, it barely fit in a cooler we had to transport it in. It was massive and my grandma didn't know whether it would fit in her oven. Here's me holding the heart of the turkey and the gizzards, I know, right, I just couldn't let go of my long locks, and look at the size of those organs!

We entered Alabama where the highways were clean, the grass along them tidy and liter free, and the state a beckoning beauty, we instantly saw what my grandparents had fallen in love with. The dirt in Alabama was red, yes, red. I had heard of the "red" dirt being a delicatessen to some, at the time I believed it was an Urban legend, where people ate that "red" dirt, no I didn't attempt it myself. I heard it from someone I worked with at the lab, so maybe someone was messing with my overactive imagination, hindsight tells me they were, I've heard more bizarre legends in my life.

We planned a four day weekend around the adventure because I wanted to spend time with my grandma and grandpa to see how they were adjusted and to check out the area, which Maria and I had the pleasure to do the summer prior. My Grandma whizzed around the kitchen making pumpkin pie, showing me the ropes, which I never really put into practice, and we calculated when the turkey should go into the oven, after testing it, and nearly having to remove every oven rack to get it to fit. It had been a great Thanksgiving trip where the visit felt truly like it should have, and we like to think our children took the same away with them.

We talked my grandma into going to a beautiful place, near Holly Pond, in Cullman. She wasn't an outspoken religious person, and I, three years prior, converting to Catholicism, was excited to go. It was called Ave Maria Grotto. A quaint place sprawled over four acres of hilly Alabama land. It was known as the "Little Jerusalem" and was created by Father Joseph Zoettl. The detail in this gracious Grotto immersed me and everyone into it's beauty and grace. This man had recreated something that only imagination could muster and was amazing. I'm including pictures, which do not give near the immersion of seeing it in person. It was one of many holiday's to be thankful for.

Dark Nest Travel now has video, remember to click on YouTube link in the closing paragraph, and view our very first, yes, very first, Introduction Video, with a lot more to come!

Thanks for reading about our lives. Don't forget to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube and follow us on Instagram at: darknesttravels. Thanks for stopping by and keeping up to date on our life, in its genesis and the unfolding path that is just ahead.

Dark Nest Travels : Introduction & Abduction, The first Video!

There's a signpost up ahead...it's a bit blurry..but you can make it out. The tiny reflective letters on the sign are glowing from the headlights of the RV and the green familiar mile markers shimmer in the high grass at the side of the road.  With squinting eyes you peer into the darkness following that infinite ray of light beaming on the green backdrop, a bright, very bright, light shines above you, and you feel the energy, this massive magnetism that continues to pull you in, "please keep reading," a voice whispers to your right, you look over, and...

Well, you've read about our history, you've read about the time's we've had in our past, and all of you will hopefully continue the vicarious journey with us. I am introducing our first Dark Nest Travels, video, albeit a total experiment, and experience, almost an abduction of sorts, I might add. I hope to continue to provide everyone with some form of entertainment, simply because my fiction usually scares or disturbs the hell out of most that know me, and although this is not fiction, it's an outlet that I'm greatly enjoying. I appreciate each and everyone of you! Watch now, hopefully it lives up to some kind of standard of video, if not, I'll get better in the future, until then, here it is...

Click Here to View the Video!

Thanks for reading about our lives. Don't forget to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube and follow us on Instagram at: darknesttravels. Thanks for stopping by and keeping up to date on our life, in its genesis and the unfolding path that is just ahead.

Dark Nest Travels : Ending a Long Term Relationship (with work)

After many years, I've called it quits. This long term relationship had to end sometime, and it ended upon me getting a job relatively closer to home, so here...I...am, writing this. It's bittersweet, because I "liked" my long term job (it was far from a love affair, believe me, I wasn't in "love"), but the economics of the job began to get the best of me. The retail job took a toll on my life, as it had for the past fifteen and a half years. The ups, the downs, the crazy schedule, the holidays that I missed with my loved ones, it chipped away at my mental state, mostly, and I allowed it for a long period of time, without fail. I only lasted this long to inch my way closer to that "semi" retirement phase of life. Dark Nest Travels, hopefully, gets off the ground by mid summer next year, if not, I probably seriously screwed up with the timeline.

There were only a few of the "good ones" in the job I had. I will miss them. They were the ones who shared my work ethic, they shared a glint of hope that things just might get better. I formed relationships that lasted beyond the job when friends left prior to me. The friends established were the people in my life at this job who made it worth coming in everyday, and I thank each and everyone of them for being a part of my life. They meant a lot, mean a lot, but when life's goals come along, and that light to those goals is getting ever more clear, a move has to be made and the long term torch carrying will have to be passed along to the next.

It's been real, friends and co-workers, a long ride to the end of a roller coaster ride that seemed endless, and chasing that blazing orange carrot dangling on the end of the string. I hope everyone of you know how to get in touch, keep in touch, and watch the somewhat crazy spirals I clamber to make this social media, video, picture thing work. I appreciate each and every person that I've made contact with in my life, friends, family, even enemies, have all made a huge impact in my life in some way shape or form, and I could never ask for more. Thanks to all of you!

If you haven't already, don't forget to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube and follow us on Instagram at: darknesttravels. Thanks for stopping by and keeping up to date on our life, in its genesis and the unfolding path that is just ahead.

Dark Nest Travels : Travel in 1999

Travel, where does it begin? Does it begin with  a new adventure, is it just a weekend getaway, a retake on life? The definition is in the eyes of the beholder of those who are doing it. As a child, I remember our cabin. It was constructed by my paternal grandfather, Carl, in the nineteen sixties. It was a two bedroom, one bath cottage, and believe it or not a pit toilet covered with an old wood structure, also a piece of my grandfather's handiwork, located near a tree line before a section of woods. It was an awesome weekend getaway for us. Our family spent long weekends and took many trips there. The ride was a short three hours or so, which as a kid was endless in the backseat annoying my two sisters. I remember the, what then, seemed, a long winding dirt road, where the excitement kicked in. When the tires hit the gravel to that road, I knew we were almost there.

When we arrived, my dad would go through his routines, turning the well pump on, twisting the old fuses into their sockets and giving power to the place. My mom opening windows to air out that faint mustiness that hung in the air from being closed for long periods of time. There was an old toy box to the right when you entered. In the box were old Archie comic books, coloring books and loose crayons to keep us occupied on a potential rainy day. The old thick wallpaper hung heavy on the walls adorned with sailboats, some of the adhesive, worn, through the years and weather, caused a corner or two to curl where the seams met. There was a sectional couch to the left and on the right was a pull out couch. Straight ahead a television on the left, a dinette on the right. The kitchen was a refrigerator, kitchen sink and stove, in that order from left to right at the far wall. There was a hallway, a doorway next to the television, in the center a bathroom, and to the right and left of that a bedroom on each side. The cabin was small, but extremely useful.

More than just the layout of the cabin hangs heavily in my heart, what I really remember was swimming, enjoying time with family, and huge campfires by our cousin Tony. It was learning that the smell of gas and oil from a chainsaw to make a vision across the street from our cabin a reality for our cousin's own piece of paradise, that helped make these trips so worthwhile, such a crucial part that helped build my travel bug. Tag, hide and seek, swimming across the river to the other side, which seemed miles away, were all memories that will stay with me forever.

In 1999, after our first two children settled, and we were all somewhat adjusted, I decided it was time to revisit the cabin. I thought that maybe I could recreate some of those memories with them. We loaded up our Suburban, Barney, our son and daughter, and with only the memory on how to get there in my head, we traveled north to the cabin.

The trip didn't seem as difficult as it did when I was a passenger. It seemed quick. We arrived. Nothing seemed the same. The memories floated around in my head, but there was something different. The beach that my cousin's once kept cleaned up at the bottom of their hill on their lot had been overrun with seaweed, because their own children were adults and they didn't spend as much time traveling there as they once did. We made the best of it. We had a small campfire, cooking hot dogs on an open fire and then settled in for the night. The cabin had some small changes to it, small enough for the common visitor not to notice, but I did, it didn't feel the same. We left the next day. I was slightly deflated that I couldn't recreate the times I had there growing up, but at least I was able to tell the stories of my own youth, and I think that may have been enough.

Time, it's a funny thing, it ages us, it takes a toll on everyone, including those places we once enjoyed. What time can't do is take away those memories that we hold dear. It shifts perspective, views, creates a different mindset that once may have been. That trip was okay, but seemed lonely, because everyone had aged, my sister's, cousin's, my family were living life, heading down their own paths, and correlation of our paths crossing was scant. It was a good time with my own family, but a sad reality that once time has taken a leap forward, nothing can bring it back around and recreate those minutes, those moments, or those days.

Thanks for reading about our lives. Don't forget to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube and follow us on Instagram at: darknesttravels. Thanks for stopping by and keeping up to date on our life, in its genesis and the unfolding path that is just ahead.

Dark Nest Travels : the Honeymoon & Yellowstone - 1996

Our wedding was a success! It had been a beautiful day with blue skies, the beginning of fall colors cascading through nature, and when Maria and I clambered into our minivan, at the end of our reception, it began to downpour. A sign that our marriage would flourish, right? We raced home to our house, got out of the vehicle and Maria realized her wedding dress had been dragging outside the van. We laughed about it. We smooched on Barney and Scrumpy, and then went to a hotel room that my parents had reserved for us that night, plans were that my sister would take care of the pets while we were gone. The hotel room was adorned with the typical practical joke, seran wrap over the toilet, and a bottle of champagne on our bed, which I still have, unopened, to this day, we won't drink it, but it's on a shelf in our house. We couldn't leave right away for our honeymoon because my Grandma wanted us to open her wedding present to us the next day.

We decided, since financially we weren't in the position to talk to a travel advisor and book a cruise, prior to the wedding, and take off to a Caribbean paradise, we were going to "go West". We woke up, ate breakfast at our favorite restaurant at the time, Loxton's, ordering our typical omelette a Carbonara. We then met the family at my parent's house and opened up my Grandmother's gift to us. It was a bread maker. Not too exciting today, but then, it was an awesome gift. We used that machine for more than ten years. We said our goodbyes to the family and then left. I had an atlas and our route roughly planned out. We were going to drive until we spotted something amazing. We discussed possibly making it to Yellowstone, so that's where we headed. We loaded the Escort, and we were ready to travel.

At the time, we didn't have Google Maps or GPS, for that matter, so I routed the plan taking I-80, or better known as The Lincoln Highway. The trip was a little boring, but when we entered near a corner piece of Colorado it got interesting. There were these vast mountains, The Rockies, before us, and they were majestic, something we hadn't scene in our lives on this scale. We trekked to Cheyenne, Wyoming from there and spent the night at a motel. There were some shady creatures there, making a lot of noise out the door of our room, which raised suspicion. I had a knife, so I was good, we didn't sleep well, but travel often did that, and the noise outside the hotel room was also keeping us alert for our own safety. It seemed the place was teeming with a modern day Wild West. We left early the next morning, when all the night animals of Cheyenne's society had decided to go rest while the remainder of the world started the day.

Wyoming, and the entire trip, really, was desolate, a sprawling unpopulated landscape. It was the end of September when all the other tourists were back to school, back to work, and here we were traveling through a moderate amount of traffic, it was peaceful, and it was decided that we picked the right month to travel. So often do other tourists take away from what travelers could enjoy and this time of the year took them out of the equation.

Wyoming was the least populated of the trip. We drove through scenic mountain views. We stopped at Thermopolis and soaked in a pool of hot spring water. It was refreshing, the sulphuric scent wafted, albeit a little stinky, through the air, and the natural warm water soothed the well traveled and abused muscles. We then journeyed deeper northwest into Wyoming, heading to Cody, where we would hunker down, create a base camp in a hotel and relax to enjoy the rest of our time.

The weather in Wyoming was snow, rain, more snow, and then sunshine. Here we thought Michigan weather was unpredictable and bipolar, but in Wyoming this time of the year, it was bizarre, uncanny and bordered on downright schizophrenic. It was a different world, from the weather, to the scenery. When we drove into Yellowstone, there was an abutment that led down to a ravine. On the other side of the ravine there was a family of three buffalo, trekking through the newly fallen snow gently landing on their tufts of fur. They were ambling in their habitat, naturally unmolested by humans, tourists, and cameras. The sight was surreal. Surreal, because the world is so inhabited by humans and most don't take the time to enjoy the beauty that nature has to offer. This beauty sealed the deal for us, the deal that in our future, travels would occur, and we would start with what the United States has to offer. So much of the world, and life, is hustle and bustle and the Honeymoon had helped us to relax, take a step back, and to take it in.

I could probably go on for pages and pages about what we did and what we saw, because there was so much that our eyes took in, but I'm going to end it here. Living vicariously is one thing, but to get out and do, brought dimension. Our marriage began, our trip to the west of the United States had initiated and unlocked an urge to travel, it woke the bug that lay dormant inside. The love and care that our family showed us to get us to our marriage and honeymoon destination was overwhelming, a lot like the scenery that we had enjoyed. We will never forget, we will always remember, and those memories will forever anchor us to those that matter, and the memories created.


Thanks for reading about our lives. Don't forget to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube and follow us on Instagram at: darknesttravels. Thanks for stopping by and keeping up to date on our life, in its genesis and the unfolding path that is just ahead.

Dark Nest Travels : The Prelude & "the Wedding" - 1995

1995 was slightly chaotic and sad, life was slightly blurred, really. We were dormant in our travels, or at least limited to local travels. I won't go into the entire year, but, understand, '95 was one of stress.  In February Maria's mother had a heart attack and getting open heart surgery. She pulled through it, but it added stress to what was going on with us. I was in between jobs, Maria had to help take care of her family, so was out of work as well--- chaos and disorder commenced in a bizarre dance, almost mocking us with a sneer. We smiled back at it.

It was a testament that no matter what kind of shit balls came our way we would be able to prevail, move forward, and tie the bond that was sitting quietly and patiently on the sidelines. We were taking our relationship to its next level, yes, "the Wedding", as it was dubbed for almost an entire year while planning (personal joke between Maria and my mom).

The stress, the changes, none of these events held us down. Nothing stood in our way of progressing down the path of marriage. Now remember, we had been engaged for almost a year and a half, I said it before, we moved quick. We planned.

We had a running joke that by the time we tied the knot that Cherry Chip cake, Maria's favorite at the time, would be obsolete, that Metallica, my favorite band, would be played on the oldies radio station. Once a date was set for September 21st 1996, the entire year of '95 (which settled down and attempted to get smooth) into '96 was putting our heads into "the Wedding" and getting it to work.

It takes a village to raise a child, the old saying goes, it takes an entire family to help get the idea of a wedding on its feet and help it walk, quite literally, down an aisle, and come to fruition. Both our families were behind the scenes putting their handy work into our plan, into our future.

As '96 began to rear its head, the plans began to settle into a valley, the calm before the storm, September finally arrived. The dresses for the bridesmaid had to be switched a few weeks before hand. The dress that Maria's mom originally purchased for "the Wedding" wouldn't fit, and stress was at an all time high, the stress was feeding the moments, the memories, the smiling confidence that everyone had on their faces, as we worked through it diligently riding the waves. It was one of the most trying times in our history. The day, like everyday of our lives, had arrived.

The sky was blue, that morning. I woke from my parent's couch as tradition forced my hand at not seeing the bride until we walked down the aisle that afternoon, needless to say we were living together in our first home, but tradition is tradition. The trees were beginning their morph into color giving nature's warning that we were heading into Autumn and ambling head on into the day that would officially seal our bond, the day that made an entire year seem endless.

Our wedding song was "Nothing Else Matters" by Metallica, our cake was Cherry Chip, and when we said our vows, our love for each other was as strong as it ever could be to pave the way into our future. I remember looking into the bright blue eyes of my bride. Pools of water on the surface, the quivering of the nerves in our lips was joy, it was happiness, and a feeling so intense because we did it, we were becoming Tim & Maria Eagle.

In hindsight, it may have been stressful, but I watch videos, I see pictures, and I weep. Not for the wedding itself, but for all of those people in our family who have left us since that day. The memories of those people, the happiness they had for our special day, the way that they had touched our lives was like a magic act without the illusion. They were all such a crucial part of our lives, and we have so much today to be thankful for all of them, those who left and those who are still around and a part of our daily lives, and that love is something that will never go away.

The next adventure begins the travel bug within. Thanks for reading about our lives. Don't forget to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube and follow us on Instagram at darknesttravels. Thanks for stopping by and keeping up to date on our life, in its genesis and the unfolding path that is just ahead.

Dark Nest Travels : 1994 - A Conclusion, Not the End

The Upper had a lot to offer, the Fall colors cascading over a beautiful landscape, the upper and lower Tahquamenon Falls and their beauty. It's breathtaking, really. My grandparent's home was wooded in the back. Behind those woods was a lake, a lake that from the eye went on forever, but in reality it didn't, it was just a body of water that formed in the middle of a vast mini-forest.

In my late teens I spent some time at their place and my grandmother took me and my cousin on a small hike through the woods. This had all started because a prior owner of the house left a hand drawn map, and what young man, boy, child, anyone, really, could resist exploring a map and have a quest? None that I know. We went back and looked at the lake that was dubbed, "Mitten Lake" scrawled simply on paper, I think it may have been a name made up by some local hunters of the area, only because of the title's cliche nature.

We saw a beaver dam. My Grandma found a log, it was about twelve inches long, the bark had been peeled from it, and both ends were gnawed to sharp points, it was similar to a pencil with tips on both ends. The work that was put into this by the tiny creature had been fascinating. It was the first time I'd ever seen anything like it. We never did see the beavers. What stood out to me was the way my Grandma looked out into the water, her demeanor was calm, as if the decision she and my Grandpa had made to move to this place was a crucial part of their life. It was that glint, that sparkle in her eye that what she was doing was right and pertinent in her own life's story.

Back to the present journey of 1994, Maria and I had a great rest in the Class C. We visited with my grandparents and I caught up with conversation since it had been awhile since I had visited with them. My grandpa, sitting at the table, his usual calm, cool and collected look, a cup of coffee, a pack of cigarettes and a book in his hand and Barney had instantly attached to him, often laying by his feet. They grew a bond in the short while we spent at the house.

Maria and I did some exploring ourselves, leashing Barney and took a walk in the woods and to "Mitten Lake". The lake hadn't lost the beauty that I remembered, the sun glowed over us, casting bright rays over the small waves of lapping water. A woodpecker could be heard off in the distance.  Birds were scattering and flitting from tree to tree. Squirrels were foraging through the fresh fallen leaves. We felt that peace, the same peace that consumed my Grandma when she took me out to the lake years prior. I wondered if I would ever achieve some of that in my lifetime.

While we ambled quietly through the wooded fire trails I pondered just where our lives were going to take us, how were we going to get there, and what lay ahead in our own future together? We were happy, in love, had the beginning of our future together, and I settled for just that, because the future can sometimes be muddied by events that attempt to cloud it, to tear it apart, and I knew deep down inside that the team we made together, there was nothing in the world that could separate what we had going. The journeys we made together, our blank canvas of life before us, were going to hold us together, to keep us alive, and to keep us who we are.

We were refreshed and ready to hit the road again back home, back to the slice of reality waiting for us, i.e. jobs, mortgage, etc, etc. Maria loved my grandparents, just as I thought she would. Barney, well, he didn't hate a thing in life, except for taking a bath, and my grandparents, they accepted many into their lives and grew to know and love Maria through the years. My Grandparents are both gone today, I like to think that they left us to continue somewhere else together, the loss of my Grandma just recently, and I miss them so much, but realize deep in my heart that they made their moments in life, they lived, loved, and inspired me to do the same. Thank you, Grandma and Grandpa, for the love of life that you showed me when you were here with us.

Thanks for stopping by and reading, I appreciate all of you! Make sure to subscribe to Dark Nest Travels on YouTube, (for some future amature videos), and be sure to follow us on Instagram for some pictures. I'll be back soon with more of our story and Dark Nest Travels.

Dark Nest Travels : Our Travels in Autumn --- 1994

We were settled into the new homestead in the city. We were content. Our Barney had grown four times the size he was from when he was a puppy and it somewhat surprised us, but it didn't change how we loved him. Scrumpy, he just got older, wiser and more set in his ways, oh, and he became a lot less ornery.

Maria and I have at this point been with each other for about a year, we moved quick! We were "engaged" as it's put, just with no real plans or a date, or anything, why not, right? The most that "engaged" status did is moved the label "girlfriend"/"boyfriend" which seemed a ludicrous label, to "fiance", which sounded more distinguished. I really wanted her to see the family outside of my mom, dad and siblings. We decided that we were going to make a trip to the Upper Peninsula to see my grandparents. It was a good test to see if Barney could handle travel.

We had sold the Jeep Cherokee in trade for a Chrysler Town and Country minivan, it was getting serious, already with a minivan and our family hadn't yet expanded. We loaded the van, and took off on our journey. Barney turned out to be okay in a vehicle, but during the entire trip, he would not go to the bathroom, no matter what we tried. A seven hour trip took about eight hours due to stopping at rest areas to see if he would go. Ignore the baby face, the purple shirt and flannel clashing, in the picture below, it was in style! This was at one of the rest stops as Barney sniffed but didn't go!

My maternal grandma and grandpa, Ruby and Lee (short for Lawrence) moved, to their retirement home in the Upper Peninsula when I was still in High School. They lived in a small town named Gould City, Michigan, it was so small, if memory serves me right, it had one general store at the corner. Besides my parents, who took me everywhere a child would want to go growing up, whether it was camping in a tent, a Dodge camper van, or a motorhome, my grandparents influenced me greatly regarding my travel bug. They purchased a home, taking a kind of risk because the towns in the Upper were so far apart and amenities were few and far between. The nearest hospital was a chore to get too, sorry, I don't remember the mileage to it. They lived seven hours from our home. It was the "risk" part, the possibility of being snowed in with minimal road travel, the lack of population, all of it inspired me. The weather in the Upper could be unpredictable, and since I've heard of many of my grandparent's travels through the United States, them being there was just another one of their lifestyle changes. It was another place in their life that they could make work, plant a garden, make and enjoy the things that made them happy. Below is a picture of my grandparents when we visited them.

Grandma Ruby  5/31/1934-5/11/2018

Grandpa Lee  7/26/1930 - 10/3/2008

When we arrived to my grandparent's home Barney went right for the gusto, he didn't pee, instead, his back curled, and stay with me hear, he hunkered down and popped a steamy squat on the grass when he saw my grandparents on their back porch to greet us. (I included the dump sequence because if my Grandma was still with us she'd chuckle at it, I come by my sense of humor honestly). We got a good laugh at this. It was dusk, the light was dimming as the days were growing shorter. The fall colors were striking in the woods at the back of their property. My Grandma had set us up in their Class C small motorhome. It was a bit nostalgic for me because she and my Grandpa took this motorhome places I could only dream about.  I could envision them traveling to Arkansas, where my Grandma loved to look for gems, rocks, diamonds, even panning for gold on her adventures. It was uncanny to realize that they were at the retirement phase of their life, and that we were just beginning ours.

I will continue this in the next post, it's getting a little lengthy and I want to try my hand at keeping it engaging, hopefully I haven't lost anyone, yet. Thanks for coming along on our journey. Be patient, I'm not going to go through every single year of our life up until 2018, I'll skip around a little. I'll also have many more tales to tell on the Dark Nest Travels YouTube channel, our video creation, so don't forget to subscribe to that.