last stop...

Clear Lake, Iowa

more up north...

Kev, ipod and reel...







Johnny and the cabin...







Sha and her "spa"...







the "sign"...







"I spy"....and say goodbye...

up north...

Ada the cat...








Ada the lake...







empty chairs...






the wall...






hummingbird...

sha's piano students...

first recital pose...

soap box derby...

Harrison...6th place






Chandler...4th place...

wedding...

niece Elizabeth gets married...

macomb crossing in progress...

soundbooth...









demolition...

crossing concerts...

Jami Smith...







Shane and Shane...








Crowder...

Spring nest of finches on front door...

we are old..

Kevin emails me Friday afternoon, invites me to a movie, complete with popcorn and milk duds. I jump while the offer is hot. Sprout’s had a 30 minute wait so we opt instead for Taco Bell drive through as more of an app. with the popcorn the main entrée and milk duds, dessert. Although we mix the two for maximum pleasure. In the 10 minutes or less we parked on the lot and consumed our tacos he was no longer feeling inclined to movie-go. For this I showered. We ended up grabbing groceries we had needed since returning from vacation, giving our murky pool some expensive attention and sinking eventually into the leather cushions of our 2nd story escape. I admit I much preferred our private viewing of “The Prestige” to anything offered locally in our theatres anyway, even though I ashamedly whined about it on the way home. We also watched “Perfume”, which was a bit warped and unsettling (you win some, you lose some,) “Premonition”, and “The Astronaut Farmer” over the course of the weekend. We even feasted last night on a microwave bucket of theatre popcorn and…milk duds.

One more funny.

Shawna and Kevin and I gave John Playstation 2 and Guitar Hero for his birthday. He brought it along for the trip. He's been bugging me to try it for a while now, ever since he started playing the one here at church, which led to us getting him his own. The first night in the hotel he hooks it up and Shawna and him begin what would go on for the duration of our vacation: dueling guitars. They are both pretty good, but I must say, at the risk of sounding the doting parent, Shawna is simply amazing. Amazing.

Anyway, the next morning, he hands me the second guitar while Shawna is in the shower. I question him to death on all the details before we start. He patiently breaks it down and gives me many tedious details in addition to the questions I supply. And so begins my first try. I actually beat him a couple times. Each song I watch his face. The only person I compete with more than Kevin is John. We just can't stop. I ask him if a 133-note streak is good. He weakly says it isn't bad. Still, no accolades from this boy. Not one. Even though we could both see my player slamming her guitar on the stage floor to thunderous applause. I restrained myself from my normal gloating sensing the tension in his face as he sat there on the bed next to mine and due to the following admission.

Standing outside a store at the MOA waiting for Shawna to exit, I matter-of-factly comment that I think I actually played better the night I played with Shawna at their house than I did in the hotel. (He smiles) That’s right. I let you think it was my first time. Yup. All those questions. Uh, huh. (He breathes, relieved I didn’t smoke him my first time up.)

I so got him. I so.got.him.

Okay. I may actually be the only person on the planet who fully appreciates all that is my husband. I'm pretty sure I am. After years of practice and study, I think I really do understand him, moods and all. Last night he asked my opinion on what he should wear for a PRACTICE photo of their company employees for an upcoming 100-year anniversary celebration of JK. I thought we had settled on his attire but as I walked into the kitchen this morning I observed an alternative selection draped over the kitchen chair. I poured my coffee and decided to drink it in the music room by the window and peruse the stack of catalogs that came while we were gone. From this vantage point I was able to enjoy watching him make at least three trips to his closet upstairs, each time retrieving a different option. From this vantage point I could also hear him talk to himself unaware I was in the room and able to do so. This went on for a while, each time requiring he iron his additional selections. (This, after his second shower of the morning because he worked on the pool after his first one…) At 7:30 he pulled away and I didn’t dare voice my hesitation over his final decision. It was after all, a PRACTICE photo.

He calls me on his lunch break about something unrelated. When he finishes, I ask how the picture went. As is often the case, whether we were on vacation or not, they forgot to tell him the shoot was moved to August.

Maybe you remember my brain fart in the finishing stages of my 2006 holiday season decorating. Spending way too much time trying to figure out why a brand new set of lights wouldn't work? Realizing at last they weren't plugged in? (As well as my search for a treeskirt that was already under the tree...) Well, this morning I spent way too much time trying to find the match to a favorite pair of earrings I had lazily left on my bathroom sink instead of putting away. I lifted products. I looked in drawers. I crawled on the floor and ran my fingers over the rugs. For time sake I gave up and started blow-drying my hair. While doing so, I was still looking at the area from different perspectives hoping to catch a glimpse of it hiding somewhere. And then I looked in the mirror.

I never thought to check my ear.

So John & Shawna are on one raft. I have the other all to myself. (Compliments to the husband who won't come out and play with the other children.) After we've been out there for a while I decide to take a quick dip, cool off and flip sides. Laying on my stomach (trying my best not to mentally picture the view from the shore or the neighboring raft,) I am suddenly wrapped like a taco, albeit a taco mas grande, and tipped over. Then if you can even begin or desire to imagine the wrestling that takes place to somewhat lift me and throw me under. Twice. A bather and not a swimmer I get water up my nose. Twice. And he thinks he is just so very funny. He leaves me digging the sand out of my pants and proudly repositions himself on their raft as he proclaims: “Been planning that for five minutes.”

I stand and reposition myself on my raft at the same time he discovers theirs is drifting away from our shared anchor and proclaim as his perfect smile widens with the realization of what was happening: “Been planning that for ten.”

Don’t even want to think about the distance and volume my following laughter carried over the lake. But I can still see those white teeth against his tanned face wading back toward me pulling Shawna along behind him to re-tie their rope that I had undone while I was taking that dip. I am the best. And he knows it.

how dunder-mifflin inc. saved our vacation...

Aside from my motherly "encouragement" to enjoy our time together and not ruin the whole trip for all of us the day before, turns out I had some unexpected help bolstering Kevin's glass-completely-empty approach to his family get-a-way-from-me.

“The Office”.

I actually heard his laugh wafting over the moderate waves to my rafting ears Thursday afternoon. If his cabin-fevered mood could be altered by the likes of someone like Dwight or Michael, well, have at it and glory hallelujah. I think the show’s a riot too, but I never wagered it to be a life-changer. John provided two medicinal seasons worth and episode after episode we made it home in one piece. It was close yesterday. Ada meowed for two solid hours. Solid. Hours. The vet recommended Dramamine but our attempts on the way up only resulted in a lot of foaming at the mouth which is again what happened on the way back when we were all growing more than a little done with her nervous cries and pilled her anyway. It did seem to help. She slept a few hours and the rest of the way was sporadic and close enough to home we didn’t really care.

It was fun. Always nice to spend uninterrupted time with my baby girl and her big-baby husband. As always, I love having her all to myself. And John is just funny. Never fails to make me laugh. This trip he even managed to make Kevin laugh eventually too, with the help of a whacky paper company in Scranton, Pennsylvania. Think I’ll snag season three and save it for our next vacation we’re never going to take ever again.

Poor Kev. A significant part of him really wants to like it here. I know him well enough to know he isn’t being a rear end deliberately. He just can’t seem to navigate past the travel, the accommodations, and the constant companionship of those he loves most dearly, enough to enjoy himself. At this point in the venture we all become acutely aware of the fact we should have left him at home. He’s happiest when he sticks to the well-rehearsed humdrum of his daily routine. Rise early. Shower. Watch some Buffy. Iron his clothes. Dress. Make my coffee. Head to work. (where hopefully they are busy enough to keep our house afloat but not so busy he doesn’t have the opportunity to Google a magic trick or two or conjure up an ingenious invention that the world at large keeps beating him to.)

Punch out and start all over again.

Oddly I love it all. I love the smell and the modest cabin. I love the tradition and memories that are as clear to me here as the sand bottomed waters of the lake that is so much a part of me. I wonder if there is a vacation planner somewhere akin to HGTV “Designing for the Sexes”. Some system of blending our polar opposites into a week we could both enjoy. It might mean buffing up on the Civil War and pretending malls and beaches are evil but after a week like this one it might be worth a go. And from here on out, I go north without him.

Maybe.

outta here...

As of Friday morning. Headed north. Loon country. Still trying to figure out the best way to drug Kev before we leave. He hates long trips in the car. (12 hours, this one) He hates John grabbing his chest from the seat behind him. (And John has claimed the right side passenger seat from our first vacation together five summers ago. Kevin doesn't drive since he also hates staying awake, which if you do the math places him in prone position for John to mutilate his body parts. Over and over. And over. ) He hates pets. (John and Sha have a cat.) He hates traveling with pets. (John and Sha are bringing their cat.) He hates leaving our house behind in case a tornado sucks the water from the pool and drops it on the house. (I have nothing here.)

So we pack. And we brace ourselves. It will have moments of paradise whether he'll ever admit it or not. And I'm again looking forward to spending some time with John and Sha and breathing the air that can only be inhaled from that lake in the middle of nowhere. If the cat doesn't howl all the way and the weather channel doesn't proclaim some fluke funnel cloud jumped the river and landed on Silverthorne he'll live. But seriously, if you have any unique, undetectable calming "treats" I can pack for the guy, we'd all appreciate it :)

See you on the other side...

Man. Could I be more of a whine bucket? Seriously. Just re-read that last post. I meant it to be funny but it didn't really read that way. I love my neighbors, I do. I don't know their names, but I'm sure I would love them if I did. I wish they weren't such early risers but hey, they're getting robbed in taxes too, so more power to 'em.

Had my Thursday morning walk with Sha this morning. Since I elected to sleep through it yesterday. I'm always glad to have it out of the way for the day, but 6:30 is just early and I can't seem to shave an hour or so off the evening before to make up for it. I don't know how Kevin does it. We are seldom asleep before midnight and he's up like clockwork every morning at 5:30. No wonder he's grumpy half the time :)

It's a gorgeous day. Gonna shut down the laptop and get my chores done so I can slip in some pool time before heading to a swim meet at Sheridan to see the Fey's do their water magic. Busy weekend coming. Wedding rehearsal tonight, the swim meet running all weekend, wedding tomorrow, services tomorrow and Sunday, and we're hosting a Fuel party Sunday afternoon and evening. So, hello Monday. We leave for Minnesota Friday morning with John and Shawna. Kevin's dragging his feet but he'll man up and come along for the ride. I'm seriously contemplating drugging him. Once he gets there he'll be fine. Besides, with a little rum in his system he may not notice the cat the Mitchell's are bringing along...

happy...

start-powerwashing-your-house-at-eight-o'stinkin'-clock-in-the-morning-on-yet-another-holiday Fourth of July to everyone. Seriously. This is not a retirement village. If I wasn't so sure he was the same sourpuss that called the police a couple summers ago because he wasn't invited to our bongo party in the back yard maybe it wouldn't bother me enough to whine about it in blogland. Or the same guy that mowed his grass early the day after Thanksgiving and woke up our company that thought they'd take advantage of the holiday and sleep in.

As I'm typing I can hear at least three other early mowers. Which is fine. At least it's a hypnotic humming you can sleep through. But this guy and his happy little retired wife have a power washer going at rattling volume right next to my window. It's times like these my faith requires sacrifice. Or at least it will. It will ask me to put down my equally irritating power washer when her little ladies club meets for lunch on their deck next time around. It will ask me to keep turning the outdoor speakers down when their lights go off for the night. It will ask me to lay aside this resentment brewing within me, fueled with each semi-sarcastic word I write and face it: I am just not a morning person. But there has got to be some sort of etiquette we can all live with. For cryin-out-stinkin-loud. Have you heard a power washer???

So I'm up. And now he's up too. Terrific. And it looks like it's going to rain. Beautiful. Apparently the Big Dude was unaware of my anticipated pool day. Unless He thought we'd appreciate a day like today to SLEEP IN.

Okay. Finished here.