Posts Tagged ‘Vacation’

A Tale of Two Sweets

Sunday, July 12th, 2009

We took the kids for ice cream this afternoon. Oddly, Rollie wanted a Sprite instead. Todd and I decided we’d all share a bigass rice krispie treat, too.

Tiller went for the ice cream (birthday cake) and a handful of rice krispie treat, too. Sometimes it was hard for her to decide which to bite from. . . .

I am feeling ungrateful and babyish today. I love my kids. They are fun. But I miss the trips with leisurely walks, and less argument, less potty emergencies. I miss strolling around, stopping for a coffee or a beer. I miss perusing bookstores for an hour at a time, and window shopping, and not having to have a destination or a time schedule.

I know I will have it again someday. I just mourn it sometimes. And it is hard to stay dissatisfied when they look this happy.

Annie Tour 2007

Thursday, July 12th, 2007

Get your t-shirts now.

I just got back from visiting brother-in-law, SIL, and CIL (cat-in-law) in Huntsville. We had a great time (three words: “Space Ice Cream.”) I also was able to indulge my guilty history pleasure and take a day trip to beautiful Jackson County, Alabama, where a couple of my dead folks are buried. I was pleasantly surprised at the beauty of the area, and to find that my guy (Archibald) and his wife were early pioneers in the area. Which means, of course, that they took Cherokee land. Sad. They came from Kentucky to northern Alabama by packhorse. Yikes. I can’t imagine how many arguments Todd and I would get into traversing the mountains of Kentucky, Tennessee, and Alabama by packhorse, with two kids, much less 6 or more. There was a wealth of information on the family and the area they settled (Crow Creek Valley). The cemetery where they were buried was remote, just plain beautiful, and a little scary (lots of crows), just like I like’em. My only disappointment was a dearth of snake handlers. (See National Book Award finalist: Salvation on Sand Mountain.) I guess they only do that on Sunday. I don’t know what I expected – People walking around the cornfields carrying rattlers?

I arrived back yesterday afternoon, and now I am off this morning to Hilton Head with the Georgia Hotties. That’s what we call our Mom’s group – It used to be called Georgia Mamas, but one of us thought we were way too hot for that. I agree. I have written about how my brother-in-law snidely calls us “Girls Gone Mild.” He obviously doesn’t understand the hurricane of maternal drunkeness that is about to beset Hilton Head Island.


Tuesday, July 3rd, 2007

Phew! I am worn out. I never thought running 6.2 miles would take this much pre-planning. That planning is still in the works (coordinating transportation, childcare/husband, pre and post-race meetups, etc.)

Ran an easy 4 miles yesterday. I was way slow, but the knee seems to have healed nicely with the week-plus time off. I think cardio-wise, the 6.2 will be harder than it should have been for me, but with the conservative use of the knee, my body is going to thank me. Today I’m just resting up and thinking about a guilt-free big pasta dinner. I am also kind of excited about seeing the spectacle of it all. Should be a fun morning, once i get past that wakeup. I am not remotely human before sunup.

Still trying to work out networking issues. Having a complete bitch of a time uploading any pictures to Flickr.

Kids on a hike at Bill’s Mountain. They are all holding rocks. They evidently made a game of throwing rocks at a fallen tree. I don’t really know, because I was back at the cabin drinking beer on the porch.

More Lake Lure pics here.

Pooped Out

Sunday, July 1st, 2007

From last night, because I forgot to click Publish . . . .

Todd, the kids, and I went to visit friends in Lake Lure, NC this weekend. We had a great time, although kids change everything about vacation. I was up by 8 am every day we were there, even today when I woke up with a hangover. Kids do not slow down for hangovers.

We hit the road about 10:30 am and when we walked in the door, i am surprised that Todd and I didn’t burst into tears at the sight. It seems that someone showed our house over the weekend, but forgot to leave the door open to the room containing the cats’ litter box.

In the immortal words of Adam, the cousin of Poo, “Fuuuuuuuuuuuck.”

There were piles of poop in the kitchen. There were wet spots of urine on the two rugs in the downstairs rooms, in the dog’s crate, and in our bedroom. There were also some unidentified spots on the quilt in our bedroom.

After taking it all in, I was standing at the bottom of the stairs, trying to figure out where to begin, and Rollie sat down on the bottom step and said, “Dammit.” At least he is using his new vocabulary in the correct context.

He then proceeded to pull the towel rack out of the wall in the bathroom.

Awesome. Totally awesome.

Pics from our trips and attention to blogging will be along one of these days. My summer is jam-packed with excitement like this.

Our Vacay

Wednesday, April 11th, 2007

Went to the lake for a week for Rollie’s spring break. I unplugged for a week – no internet for over seven days. That was kind of strange, but much-needed.

We had a nice week, although we only had one warm day for the kids to play in the water before it turned freezing. So, to keep from getting bored and cabin feverish, we tried to stay busy. We did some “fishing” – Fishing with kids rarely means you catch anything. It just consists of sitting around talking and trying to keep the kids from throwing the rods in the water, or falling in themselves. We went to the Uncle Remus Museum in Eatonton, the birthplace of Joel Chandler Harris. We walked around fabulous downtown Eatonton. “Sleepy” describes the area to a T. Tiller and Lisa and I checked out the flea market in downtown Milledgeville. We also ate cake and had coffee at Blackbird Coffee, which is a surprisingly nice coffee shop for middle Georgia. They even have free wi-fi; I did not partake of that.

On Saturday, we bundled up the kids and went to Andalusia, the farm that was the home of Flannery O’Connor and where she lived while writing all of her novels. I have been meaning to go there for years, but the weather never cooperated. (Read: It was always too nice, and I chose to float on an inner tube drinking cheap beer out of the can, rather than following my literary desires.) The farm is on over 500 acres, and has, in addition to the antebellum farmhouse, numerous outbuildings, a pond, and they are creating some nature trails. Did I mention they have a resident donkey pony? Flossie. She is cute.

The kids just loved running around willy-nilly on the property, and seeing Flossie. Tiller and I spoke with the old woman who feeds Flossie every day, rain or shine. She drove up in a Honda CRV-type vehicle, and when she got out, I almost laughed out loud. She was wearing a long dress coat, the kind your Grandma would wear to church on Sunday, complete with a black dress hat with big red flowers on it. She and her dog, Champ, a spastic lab mix came out and fed Flossie, and Tiller and I watched the picture of this woman, her young dog, and the donkey. The woman, with her dress clothes on, tossed out a bale of hay for Flossie, the dog frolicking around the barn, and Flossie nuzzling the woman’s pockets for treats. It was perfect, just like a character out of O’Connor’s novels.

It was pretty cool to see the bedroom where Flannery wrote. (She lived in a downstairs room, since she couldn’t walk upstairs.) They still have the room as she kept it, with her desk and typewriter placed facing away from the front windows, so that she wouldn’t be distracted by the view of the pond (the equivalent to the Internet distraction of writers today?) I tried to imagine her sitting there, typing out Wise Blood on the typewriter, but it was easier imagining her stories when you walk the grounds and see how her environment played such a huge part in the settings of her writings. Andalusia is at once beautiful, especially in early spring, with everything blooming and coming alive, and still eerie as hell, as if you can hear the echoes of her characters voices emanating from the dilapidated outbuildings. I was inspired.

Sunday was Easter. We woke up and ate a buttload of candy. Tiller accidentally ate peanut butter. I am a shitty parent. Then we dressed them in their Easter outfits (note that Tiller’s included leggings, rather than tights, which is so, like, something I would wear in 1990, except that hers didn’t have holes in them.) My Mom and Dad were coming up that morning. Mom made a ham and homemade potato salad, which were really good, but kind of weird because I don’t think of them as a meal you eat when it is 30 degrees out. Then Dad and I bundled up and hid the Easter eggs.

We froze our asses off while the kids ran around the yard finding eggs. Then we attempted to get a few good shots of the kids all dressed up. Basically, it was one big windburned, snot-nosed mess. Then we went inside, stuffed our faces, and headed home.

Phew! I’m Back.

Monday, April 9th, 2007

You might be wondering what happened to me. Spring Break happened to me. Rollie had a week off from school, so we took the kids and went to the Lake for a week. It was nice, at least for a day or two, then it was freezing. Anyway, we got back yesterday and I am just getting back into the swing of things, but thought I’d let anybody who cares know that I didn’t die or anything. I just spent a week with the family.

Oh, and I didn’t get on a computer for seven whole days. Kind of refreshing to remember what it is like to live unwired for a week. I read, I cleaned house. I took a few walks. I sat in the yard and watched the moon rise. I drank not as much as one might think I would.

Of course, it was so cold that I also watched a shit load of television and somehow got addicted to a show about working on Alaskan crab boats.

But no email. No cel phone. And I mostly listened to the radio, which might sound terrible, but the local station out of Eatonton, Georgia is about the funniest thing ever. The commercials star people’s grandchildren, like Lydia and Hannah (of “I’m Hannah, come see my Nana!” fame) and a commercial they play over and over for a butcher shop, I guess, with a theme song containing a chorus of “It’s the meats, It’s the meats, It’s because of the wonderful meats!!!!”

Good stuff. Anyway, I’m back and I’m overwhelmed. Laundry, email, getting Rollie to school, worrying about frozen plants. Mold on the bread when I’ve already promised the pbj. Crises of that sort.

Kinda missed this place.