Winter Arrives with Cake and Northern Lights

 

Chapter 89: Aurora, Art Supplies, and Flip-Flops of Regret

We survived our first real freeze in Northwest Arkansas, which felt like a vanlife rite of passage. After thawing ourselves with groceries, Kung Pao chicken (my first attempt!), and the sacred gym-shower ritual, I was riding high on productivity and survival.

Still riding the creative wave from nature journaling, I wandered into Hobby Lobby looking for colored pencils and promptly lost two hours of my life. Fabric for future van curtains. Fake plants as emotional backup for my real plant. A fur throw for winter vibes. A tiny lantern so I could finally retire Halloween décor with dignity. I left clutching my colored pencils like they were explosive devices - because if those broke in the cart, I would’ve emotionally collapsed in Aisle 7.

Interesting merchandise at Hobby Lobby - the need for mini Jesus is one thing but why would you need 12 of them?

That night, Facebook informed me the Northern Lights were visible in Arkansas, a sentence that sounds fake. Light pollution blocked everything at first, but when we reached our lot and shut off the lights, there it was: faint pink aurora magic. My first-ever aurora, witnessed from a van. Surreal.


The next night I went northern light hunting again, this time in flip flops (I was on my way to the shower house and somehow got distracted) , in freezing temperatures, like a fool with hope but no socks. I did see faint green glow… and also gained a runny nose that felt well-deserved.


In between laundry and van-cleaning chaos at Blowing Springs, I met a Winnebago Ekko owner who gave me a tour of his pristine rig while mine looked like a laundry-themed crime scene. He invited us to Chili Saturday (sadly, we had plans). That evening he sat alone by the fire playing guitar, turning the whole campground into an accidental indie movie scene.

Cold, art-supplied, snot on face... but spiritually thriving.

Chapter 90: Birthday Tiramisu, Accidental Influencer, and the Woolly “Burger”

Birthday week kicked off with mission: tiramisu ingredients. No oven, no mixer, but lots of confidence. Add a surprise bottle of Dominican rum from Nelson’s coworker and suddenly I was living my dessert destiny. I even treated myself to a pedicure, because happy toes, happy vanlife.


On my birthday, I made beef stew, whipped heavy cream by hand like a medieval peasant, and used Milo instead of cocoa powder because I refused to buy a whole bag for one dessert. Innovation or chaos? Time would tell. Nelson, the bears, and the campground sang me Happy Birthday, and the ISS flew overhead like a cosmic birthday candle. I’ve had worse birthdays.



Then came Fly Tying with Coffee at the CCC Lodge, our first class. We parked next to a truck plastered with fishing YouTube stickers. Turns out it belonged to Paul, a semi-celebrity fly-fishing YouTuber running a “spot me and win a free T-shirt” contest.

Someone at my table won.
I, however, misheard everything and politely asked a stranger if he happened to have a size Small in free T-shirts.

Reader… he gave me one anyway.

T shirt inside... a nice one too!

The class itself was like craft hour for fishermen. I learned that a “Woolly Bugger” is not, in fact, a burger. We used tools called a bobbin and a whip finisher, and materials that sounded like exotic menu items. We also tied a San Juan worm, which I thought was a sand worm, and looked suspiciously like a fried shrimp.

Very woolly LOL

Don Don learning to speak Trout


Nelson immediately went to the river to test his handmade flies. I went back to the van to sketch trout like a calm, supportive fish wife. For dinner, despite spending the whole day thinking about fish, I made teriyaki chicken, which somehow felt perfect.



From auroras and art supplies to birthday tiramisu and accidental brush with internet fame—this week felt cozy, weird, creative, and deeply us.



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