Not keeping up well, am i? Well, we went to Blue Ridge (Morganton, actually) and had a lovely week at the cabin. While Todd and I unpacked, the kids and the dog ran around willy nilly on top of the mountain. The cabin is at the end of a road on a mountain, with only a few cabins around, so the kids could have free rein, and we didn’t have to worry about people or cars. They found sticks and climbed logs, and threw rocks, picked dandelions, and looked at bugs. They laid on a picnic table and watched the clouds. They yelled.
Todd and I held down the fort, watching them from above on the porch, looking out over the blue ridge mountains, sipping drinks, and playing Scrabble. (A draw for the whole weekend.)
That night, after dinner and putting on PJs, we had a clear night, so we pulled out the telescope and showed Tiller the moon. Rollie was not so impressed, but Tiller sat on Todd’s knee and said, “I see the moon, Mama. I see the moon.” Then she would raise her eye from the telescope and look up at the moon with her naked eye, as if trying to figure it all out.
The next morning, Tiller and I continued the nature lessons with some birdwatching. Here she is with the Audubon bird guide. I love it when she picks up my big books and acts like she is reading them. (She is currently “reading” Anathem along with me.)
The next day, we drove and found a park for a picnic and playing on the Toccoa River.
Then we drove into McCaysville/Copper Hill for ice cream,
model train watching,
and state line straddling.
Rollie and I met this guy, but he scared Tills.
When we got back to the cabin, we sat on the porch and rocked out to some tunes while having a snack. The following is a video of, I think, the kids explaining what will happen if their Uncle Mark gets into the Easter baskets. It makes little sense, but is funny, and also a good example of what every night at our dinner table is like. Note the manner in which the kids try to get their stories out so fast that they have to stop and gulp air every once in a while. Sometimes their stories sound like hyperventilation. Also note that by “story” i do not mean to imply that there is any plot.
That night, we roasted marshmallows. I like to make sure that each kid gets their fill of carcinogenic-covered marshmallow every few months.
Friday, it rained ALL DAY LONG. I didn’t know the real meaning of Cabin Fever until that day. Todd and I started drinking Mimosas about ten and proceeded to lounge around in PJs all day long, reading and laying all over the couch with the kids while Rollie played XBox until his brain started melting out of his ears. Just a little.
See what Quint is doing? That is pretty much all he did the whole time, except sometimes the location was a sunny spot on the porch, or my bed, or occasionally he would go outside and attempt to pee on every tree in North Georgia.
That night we had some slightly scary storms, wherein I looked out the window and trees were trying to be horizontal rather than vertical, and then i called my mom and sister every ten minutes to see if we were under a Tornado Warning.
Okay, there is more to this trip, but i have to go to the bathroom, and i think it will make a good second post for tonight or tomorrow. Like you’re still reading or something. . . .