Chicago, day 02 – Pirates and Evolution!

Our second day in Chicago turned out to be fantastic. For starters, the Embassy hotel gives out a nice free hot breakfast (though they’re frikkin’ misers with their internet connection; $15 a day!). After filling up on eggs and bacon, we headed out to the Field Museum. First we had to walk to the nearest stop, which was rather nice. I like walking around in Chicago, seeing the sights. For some reason, Chicago doesn’t weird me out the way DC does. Maybe it’s because of the part of Chicago I’m walking in; it’s very nice here. But we had a few blocks walk to the bus stop, then we hopped on the 146 and rode to the Field Museum. We met my brother-in-law Pat and his wife Julie there. The girls love Uncle Pat and Aunt Julie (or Uncle Julie and Aunt Pat, as Pixie sometimes calls them), and I always appreciate having extra adults around to ride herd on the kids.

The Field Museum is HUGE! We spent all day there, at least 8 hours, and still only went through a couple of the exhibits. We saw their special exhibit on the slave ship Whydah (sp?) and the pirate Sam Bellamy. Then we hit the Underground exhibit, where the kids got a look at giant earth worms and other cool creepy crawlies that live underground. After that we saw the Egyptian exhibit, where we saw plenty mummies, wrapped and unwrapped. I saw a few things there that sparked some story ideas and Julie laughed every time I pulled out my notebook to write something down. It can’t be helped. That’s the nature of being a writer. I hate to let a go idea go.

After the Egyptians, we saw the exhibit on “This Evolving Earth.” I don’t think I’ve ever seen a better exhibit on biology and the development of life on this planet. I was pleasantly surprised to realize how much I actually knew about evolution, and at a few points I was lecturing to Julie on things like the advantages of sexual reproduction vs. asexual reproduction (and no, the word orgasm never once entered that discussion). Then as soon as I’d wrap up my little lecture, we’d turn around and discover a display on whatever it was I’d just talked about. Weird! It was like I was channeling my dad.

We stayed in the Field Museum until closing. On our way out, we hit the gift shop, where I was able to pick up a book based on the evolution exhibit. It has everything from the exhibit in it, so it’s like taking that whole part of the museum home with me, right down to the fun little animated movies on “How to Become a Fossil” (step one: die!) and the pictures of hominid skulls and dinosaur bones. Can you tell how thrilled I am to have picked up that book?

After the museum, we took a quick break at the hotel room and then hooked up with Pat and Julie again at the Rain Forrest Cafe. Thankfully, we walked there and back, and thankfully I didn’t eat anything too fattening. I usually put on a few pounds during vacations, but I’m hoping that with all the walking around, that won’t happen this time. I need to be able to fit in my jeans when I get on the plane to come home (since I hear they don’t usually let pantless people fly).

Here are a few pics from day 02:

The Field Museum!

Pat and Julie with our insect babies.

“Daddy, can I have a sarcophagus?” (BTW, Pixie says the sarcophaguses were her favorite part of the museum, and yes, she actually pronounced the word sarcophagus, much to the amazement of the woman sitting next to us on the bus back to our hotel.)

Pirates like to hang around the Field Museum. Apparently so do pterodactyls.

That’s Dinosaur Sue in the foreground, one of the most complete T. Rex skeletons ever found, on display in the main hall of the Field Museum.

Princess and Aunt Julie meet Lucy, one of the earliest hominids.

What makes us human? Our ability to create tools and works of art…

Dinosaur Sue, from head on.

Of course we’re evolved! Pat, Princess, Julie and Pixie sit with a close relative at the Rain Forrest Cafe.

And that was pretty much day 02!

Chicago, Day 01 – Arrival and Navy Pier

Hubster signed up to present a paper at the AIAA conference in Chicago this month, and he signed us all up to go along. We do this sort of thing on a regular basis. He takes us to some far away place, drops us in a strange city, and runs off to play scientist while I have to figure out what to do with the kids. I was a little intimidated by the thought of hitting Chicago with a 3 year-old and a 6 year-old in tow, but so far this trip we’ve survived. Oh, and thanks to the fact that our hotel charges an arm and a leg for wireless access, I have no idea when these posts will get up. I’m writing this one in Chicago, but will probably not be able to post until I get back to good ol’ Virginnie.

Having said that, here’s a brief run down of day 01 of our trip, with photos.

Made it to the airport barely in time, and found our flight was delayed. Took a puddle jumper to Chicago airport. Lots of turbulence. Joy!

Rode a shuttle van to our hotel, and got a good look at traffic along the way. So damned glad we opted not to get a rental car. We barely survive the trip from the airport to the hotel, and our driver knew how to drive in Chicago.

After unloading our bags, we headed out to the Navy Pier, where there are tons of rides, games, and other attractions to enjoy. We played miniature golf. Well, three of us played mini golf. Pixie was too intent on clubbing the rest of us to death to pay attention to her ball. Not that Princess didn’t try to kill us as well. She doesn’t understand yet that mini golf is a putting game, not a full swing game of golf. Oy!

We also rode the carosel, and Princess and Hubster rode the big swings.

Look for the two-seater swing on the right side, the one with the guy in the big white sneakers. That’s Hubster, with Princess beside him.

We managed to snag a table at the Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. due to the fact that half their kitchen broke, so they were only serving a limited menu that evening. Half the menu was good enough for us. I was pleasantly surprised to see they served normal sized portions, as opposed to the giganto-sized proportions I’m used to seeing in most restaurants these days. I like being able to eat an entire meal without feeling like I’m going to recreate the final scene from Monty Python’s “The Meaning Of Life.”

After that, we returned to the hotel for the evening and slept hard.

Fabulous quote from day 01 of the trip – “If you hit your sister in the head, the game is over!” (Said to Princess during mini golf.)

Second fabulous quote from day 01 – “Quit horsing around!” (Said to both girls while riding the carousel.)

The Bag Dilemma

Prior to leaving for Chicago this week, I spent two days packing for three people – me, Princess, and Pixie. (Hubster is on his own with this chore.) We’ve taken enough family trips that I’ve gotten pretty good at getting the three of us stuffed into one suitcase. I know exactly how many sets of underpants, socks, shorts, jeans, etc., to bring. What I don’t know, what I can never figure out, is what purse to bring.

Well, purse isn’t exactly the right word for it. I don’t like to carry makeup with me, and I usually prefer to keep my wallet safely zipped in a pants pocket, so I don’t do the girly girl thing and carry a purse. What I do like to carry is: a drawing pad; a mechanical pencil; an art eraser; a set of drawing pens; maybe some drafting tools; also a composition notebook and ballpoint pen for writing down any story ideas I get. If I’m thinking clearly, I’ll also toss in a travel-sized bottle of hand sanitizer, my cell phone, and coupons for whatever bookstore I’m headed out to that day. So it’s more of an art/writing bag, and I’ve got bags of various sizes set up with exactly this sort of kit. I’ve got a tiny one with the world’s smallest drawing pad and notebook for quick trips out, a larger bag with Jack Skellington on it for when I want to look truly goth, and a sturdy red bag with water bottle pockets that’s handy for a long day’s adventure.

Unfortunately, these bags all work best for when I’m running around my home town. When I’m about to get on an airplane for a long trip, not so much. The problem is, these bags will only hold what I’ve already listed, but they will not hold my beloved netbook. My little Asus EEE is too big for even the largest of those three bags. I do have a messenger bag big enough to hold the Asus and all the other stuff, but that bag is too big to lug around on a sight seeing trip and it’s covered in pins and metallic goo-gaws so it’s no good for airport security.

What I’d like to get is one more bag, something in between the size of the red art bag and the big messenger bag, something I wouldn’t cover in pins and something that would still hold a water bottle in case the kids and I get thirsty when we spend a day sightseeing. I haven’t found that bag yet. This bag is the closest I’ve come so far, but as you can see, no pockets for water bottles.

I suppose I could go with a backpack; I do have a couple of those. But the backpacks I have are too big and heavy for toting around all day and I always worry about somebody sneaking up behind me and stealing something out of the bag when I’m not paying attention (paranoid, I know). So, I’ll keep looking. For Chicago, I am taking a backpack, but I’m stuffing my sturdy red bag into it along with the netbook. That way I can leave the backpack and netbook in the hotel and travel carefree with the smaller bag during the day.

If you know of a bag that would solve my problem, send me a link so I can check it out! I really do need to solve this whole bag dilemma.

Arkansas day 02 – What to do in Arkansas

There’s lots to do in Arkansas. Seriously! Lots and lots of stuff to do!

Except we were too wiped out after a day of travel to do much the first day.

We woke up the first day to the angelic sound of braying donkeys. Yeah. My folks own two Sicilian donkeys, one male and one constantly pregnant female. Their names are Jonah and Jill, or as Mom likes to call them, that horney bastard and her poor girl.

Jill, on the left (man is she pregnant), aand Jonah , grazing on the right.

Let me tell ya, you don’t need an alarm clock when you’ve got donkeys. But my folks also have two horses, a mare named Cheyenne and a gelding named Smokey Joe.

Cheyenne, on the right, and Smokey Joe’s rear end on the left (I don’t think I got a head shot of him all week)

Anyway, we slowly dragged ourselves out of bed to the braying of the donkeys… Okay, I dragged myself out of bed; everyone else was just too damned chipper for words… and we had a huge breakfast of eggs, potatoes, pancakes, and fruit and I knew right then and there that Wii Fit is going to be cussing me out when I get home because there’s no way I can’t not eat my mom’s cooking, and she cooks a lot when we’re home. She also takes us out to eat a lot too. In fact, these trips seem to consist of three activities – cooking, eating, and shopping for more food to cook and eat. And that’s pretty much what we did all that first day of our trip. But we did manage to get out to see one of the local sites – Walmart.

Hey, we have to go somewhere to buy more food to eat all week! And Walmart is the place to go in this part of Arkansas. In fact, I think we went to Walmart every single day of our visit. But this trip was special, because on this trip we bought fishing rods for the kids!

I don’t know why, but my dad decided we absolutely had to go fishing. I don’t recall my dad being any great shakes at fishing, but apparently he was determined that the girls get the full country experience during this trip, so we hit the sporting goods section of Walmart to pick out fishing poles. Of course, the first pole Dad reached for was a pro level fishing pole that was twice the Princess’ height. I nixed that and suggested we actually look for a kid’s fishing pole. So we turned the corner and whaddaya know! We found Barbie and Dora fishing poles!

I thougth my dad was going to have an apoplexy. But the girls fell in love with those fishing poles the moment they saw them, so you know we had to get at least one. I convinced Princess to get a real kids’ fishing pole, not a toy one, if she wanted to have any hope of catching fish. Meanwhile, we let Pixie have the Dora the Explorer pole, complete with everything except hook. And then we made our purchases and headed out to the tourist sight in the area – Wood’s Pharmacy and Soda Shop.

Wood’s Pharmacy and Soda Shop (and home of the best sandwich EVER!)

Wood’s Pharmacy and Soda Shop is exactly what it says it is, an old (but still working) pharmacy with a soda shop built inside. This is the the only place in the world where I can get the delicacy known as a grilled pimento cheese sandwich. I love this sandwich. I would marry this sandwich and have its’ cheesy babies if I could. The cooks at Wood’s use three cheeses to make it, and if I ever figure out what the other two cheeses are aside from pimento, my arteries are in a lot of trouble because I’ll be making this sandwich two and three times a day,every day, until the day I die of massive heart failure from all the dairy product and greese I have consumed by eating all those sandwiches. Unlike the cheese burger from Hell we had at Checker’s, this is fried treat I can actually enjoy! Michael also got his favorite delicacy, a malted, which once again is something we can only seem to find at Wood’s.

After lunch, we still had plenty of daylight left, so we headed out to the other big tourist site in the area – the caverns at Blanchard’s Springs.

The Caverns of Blanchard’s Springs

This picture hasn’t been run through Photoshop yet, so you can’t really see all the wonderful details, but trust me, these caverns are impressive. Maybe not as big as Lurray Caverns in Virginia, but still quite stunning with all those stalactites and stalacmites and helectites (formations that sprout out sideways from the wall, instead of straight up and down; didn’t know about that one, didya? See, you learned something from reading all my vacation drivel). The caverns are actually just one part of Blanchard Springs. There’s also the actual spring itself and the nearby lake and hiking trails. The place is huge, and you can’t explore it all in one day, so we didn’t. We took two days to do it instead.

I’ve got a whole slew of pictures from the caverns, but again, they need to be run through Photoshop to bring out the details, so I’ll post those in a later entry. But after the caverns, we headed home to explore a little closer to home, and we ran across a few items of interest. The first was a closet full of my sister’s old majorette costumes, which the girls went absolutely crazy over. I was able to find a couple that sort of fit, so the girls spent the rest of the day prancing around in tutus and fringe and sequins.

Princess and Pixie strut their stuff.

While the kids danced around the house, Michael and I went for a walk, and I found all sorts of interesting things to photograph, like these…

I don’t know why, but I’m lichen this picture (har har har!)

The road to my parent’s house (it’s a mile walk to their mail box, and another four miles of dirt and rocks until you get to the highway).

The dogwoods are in bloom…

But most of the local area still looks like it was bombed to smithereens after this winter’s tornadoes and ice storms.

I wonder who’s jaw that is? (You know you’re out in the middle of nowhere when you can find bones just lying all over the place.)

After our two mile hike to get the mail, we came home to devour more of Mom’s cooking, and then there was dessert (there is ALWAYS dessert at Mom’s), and then everybody else watched a movie while I went to soak in the tub, and then bury myself in a good book (the book in question was Twilight, by the way; yes I liked it, no it’s not perfect, but it definitely kept me entertained for a few days).

And that was the second day of our trip.

Arkansas day 01 – Getting there is half the misery

Well, for the first time in a couple years, Michael and the kids and I made it out to my folks’ house waaaaaaaay out in the boonies in Arkansas. I am not from Arkansas; neither are my parents. But they moved there 10 years ago, so if I want to see them, I have to make the trek into the wilds to get out there. Here is a journal of one such adventure.

Day 1 – Getting there is half the misery…

It’s a long trip from Virginia to Arkansas. How long is it, you ask? Sunday morning, we got up at oh-dark-thirty to scarf down breakfast, pile into the car, and make the hour-and-a-half-long drive to the Richmond airport. There are airports closer to us, but this one gave us the best price on a flight to Arkansas. The drive there wasn’t a big deal. I’ve driven to and around Richmond so many times, it seems like nothing to me.

But anyway, we got to Richmond early that morning and hopped on a flight to Atlanta, the funnest airport in the world!! Okay, maybe not the funnest airport in the world, but I kind of like it because it has more food choices than most other airports I’ve been in. Unfortunately, we were traveling with the kids, and they didn’t want to eat at Au Bon Pain or Moe’s Tacos or even Sbarro’s. Noooooooo, they had to eat at Checker’s, which is really Rally’s in disguise, and the burgers we got from there were D-I-S-G-U-S-T-I-N-G. I mean, the cheeseburgers were just dripping with grease. I picked up my burger and I could see the fat spatter on the paper beneath. GROSS! Even the kids didn’t finish their meals, although to be fair, the Princess had a temperature of 102 degrees.

Oh yeah, did I mention we were travelling with a sick kid? Fortunately, she didn’t puke during the trip, but she had me worried the entire time. I had me worried, too. We rode a puddle-jumper from Richmond to Atlanta, and an even smaller puddle-jumper (or should I call it a piddle-jumper, it was so small?) from Atlanta to Little Rock. Neither flight was good for me. You see, I have this thing about small planes. It’s not that I’m afraid they’re going to crash – I’m not. It’s just that I’m concerned about spewing the contents of my stomach every time we hit turbulence. And the flight from Richmond to Atlanta was a bit… turbulent.

So I was queasy getting off the plane in Atlanta. And then I ate the grease burger from Hell. And then I got on the piddle-jumper. And there was more turbulence. Not a lot. Just enough to make me green around the gills. But then we got off the plane, met my parents, got into their car and…

Made the two-and-a-half hour drive from the Little Rock Airpot to my parents’ house in the boonies…

Only we drove at a heart-stopping 70 miles-per-hour along the windiest, twistiest roads ever built in the history of civilization, so we could make it home even faster…

But first we had to stop in Conway and have dinner at the worst Japanese hibachi restaurant known to mankind.

How bad was this restaurant? Well, let me say this. I normally find hibachi food to be a light and refreshing repast. It’s usually lean cuts of meat grilled with fresh vegetables and served with rice. But this hibachi was cooked with LARD, lots and lots of LARD, and the chef (if you could call him that) was a nut case who threw bits of food at us while he cooked. Not only that, but he hosed down the flaming onion volcano (if you’ve ever been to a hibachi place, you know what I’m talking about here – the chef cuts up the onion into thick slices, stacks them largest to smallest, fills them with some sort of flamable liquid and ignites it)… anyway, the chef hosed down the flaming onion volcano with a (get this) squirter shaped like a little boy WITH NO PANTS ON. You can guess where the water came out of. It was classy I tell ya. Really, really classy.

Not.

So I was on two tiny planes flying in gut-churning turbulence, I ate a grease burger from Hell, I ate hibachi from some place even worse than Hell, and I rode in the passenger’s seat for a two-and-a-half hour drive on the highway to Hell (only Mom was speeding, so we got there a lot faster). Just in case you were wondering, the highway to Hell is not paved with good intentions. In fact, in some places, it is not paved at all. We were okay on the narrow two-lane highway that ran from Conway to Mountain View, except for the roller-coaster-style twists and turns, but then we got to my parents’ neighborhood (and I use that term very loosely, because their closest neighbor lives a mile away) and it was all dirt road. Except for the spots where it was chunks of rock. Or exposed tree roots. Or mud. And don’t ask me exactly which parts were dirt or tree roots or rocks or mud, because I had my eyes closed the whole way, to ensure I didn’t add vomit to the list of surface materials for that road.

Anyway, after all that, we finally ended up at my parents’ place, and I was never so glad to get out of the car and actually be in Arkansas, as opposed to being on my way to Arkansas.

And that was the entire first day of our trip.

My parents’ place, Gallowglass House in Arkansas (that’s my dad in the foreground)

Episode 09 – The Goddess of Hell Fire!

I actually feel like the goddess of Hell fire today. The kids and I spent all day yesterday at a beach in Kitty Hawk, NC. We went with my best friend Mary and her family. We brought sunblock and I swear we used it, yet somehow the only one of us that didn’t end up looking like a crispy critter was Sam. The blonde pixie is as brown as a little nut, but Cassie and I are toasty red. Mary’s stepson has it worse though. Poor kid is Irish – red hair, fair skin, freckles. Only now he’s got red hair, red skin, and you can’t tell his freckles from his sunburn. I swear, before yesterday, that boy would have glowed in the dark he was so white. Nice kid though. I was hunting for seashells all day to take home to photograph. Would have photographed them on the beach but Sam + Ocean = Imminent Disaster, so I couldn’t really juggle the camera and watch the kid. I could hunt for shells though, especially with everyone else in the group helping out. Mary’s stepson dove under the waves a lot and kept brining up these incredible shells. And before I left, I scooped up a bucket of sand from beneath the water. The plan is to take a glass backing dish, lay a layer of sand in the bottom, put the shells on top of that, and then add water. Then I can photograph the shells the way they’d look best – in their not-quite-natural habitat. If only I can figure out how to get the lighting just right, so that it looks like sunlight streaming through the water over the shells. You know those wriggly lines of light that play on the sand beneath the waves? That’s what I want.

That and a vat of aloe vera gel. Ouch.

My Trip To Hell

Just a quick update to let folks know what’s going on. We’ve had a slight change of venue since my last post. On Sunday evening, Michael, Cassie, Sam and I arrived in Hell. Well, it may not be Hell for **them** but it’s definitely Hell for ME. For the curious, Hell looks a lot like the Hilton Head Marriott Resort in South Carolina. To get here, we had to make a NINE-HOUR CAR TRIP, during which Sam decided to practice her scream-, er, singing skills. She sings very loudly, and several cars pulled off the road ahead of us, thus facilitating our entry in Hell that much more quickly (and yet the trip still seemed to last an eternity; what a paradox!).

We arrived late Sunday evening. I must admit, the scenery in Hell is lovely, but the conditions of my being here are sucky. I am not here because of any sin **I** committed. No, I’m here because I married a geek. Okay, maybe that is sin. Any way, Michael is attending a never-ending geek-fest on aeronautical modeling and simulation. Meanwhile, I am stuck in a hotel room with the kids. Since yesterday afternoon, Sam has running a fever of 103+. She was up all Sunday night and up all last night screaming. She’s also been screaming a lot during the day. When Sam’s not been screaming, she’s been actively trying to dismantle the room (I believe she has a future as a rock star). Cassie has been well-behaved, but is chomping at the bit to go to the lower pits of Hell (i.e. the beach) so she can drown herself in the surf while Sam screams about the sand (to which she is apparently violently allergic).

Meanwhile, I want a shower (to wash away the sands of Hell which have become stuck in my nether-regions), but I can’t seem to get one without some disaster occurring while I’ve got shampoo in my hair. I’d also kill for a decent cup of coffee, but we all know that there is no good coffee in Hell (that’s why it’s called HELL, right). There is this brown-colored urine the locals call coffee, but it is still actually urine.

While the coffee sucks big time, the food is slightly better. Not because we’re eating at any of Hell’s fancy restaurants, but because Michael has thoughtfully stocked our hotel room with goodies from the local Piggley Wiggley (yes, there are Piggley Wiggley’s in Hell). So while Michael enjoy-, er, endures the string of luncheons and receptions hosted by his geek-fest, the kids and I are surviving on PBJs, bananas, and microwaveable soup (we brought our own microwave just for this purpose).

I had had hopes for wireless internet connection during our stay, but broadband in Hell costs $10 a day and we can only afford one day, so this is it. Not a huge loss though, as I’ve had dial-up that runs faster than Hell’s broadband. In any event, you won’t hear from me again until I manage to escape, a feat of daring which involves making another NINE-HOUR CAR DRIVE back through South Carolina, North Carolina, and part of Virginia. Hopefully this will happen on Monday. Oh, did I mention Sam hates car trips? Pray for me.

Of course, my current trials are nothing. Michael’s geek-fest is an annual thing, and next year it’s being held in a different part of Hell known as Hawaii. Getting there involves a NINE-HOUR trip on a plane. Michael says we’re going. I say only he’s going… In a shoe box.

Signing off now. See you in a week.

Maybe.

If I ever get out of Hell.

My Trip To Hell

Just a quick update to let folks know what’s going on. We’ve had a slight change of venue since my last post. On Sunday evening, Michael, Cassie, Sam and I arrived in Hell. Well, it may not be Hell for **them** but it’s definitely Hell for ME. For the curious, Hell looks a lot like the Hilton Head Marriott Resort in South Carolina. To get here, we had to make a NINE-HOUR CAR TRIP, during which Sam decided to practice her scream-, er, singing skills. She sings very loudly, and several cars pulled off the road ahead of us, thus facilitating our entry in Hell that much more quickly (and yet the trip still seemed to last an eternity; what a paradox!).

We arrived late Sunday evening. I must admit, the scenery in Hell is lovely, but the conditions of my being here are sucky. I am not here because of any sin **I** committed. No, I’m here because I married a geek. Okay, maybe that is sin. Any way, Michael is attending a never-ending geek-fest on aeronautical modeling and simulation. Meanwhile, I am stuck in a hotel room with the kids. Since yesterday afternoon, Sam has running a fever of 103+. She was up all Sunday night and up all last night screaming. She’s also been screaming a lot during the day. When Sam’s not been screaming, she’s been actively trying to dismantle the room (I believe she has a future as a rock star). Cassie has been well-behaved, but is chomping at the bit to go to the lower pits of Hell (i.e. the beach) so she can drown herself in the surf while Sam screams about the sand (to which she is apparently violently allergic).

Meanwhile, I want a shower (to wash away the sands of Hell which have become stuck in my nether-regions), but I can’t seem to get one without some disaster occurring while I’ve got shampoo in my hair. I’d also kill for a decent cup of coffee, but we all know that there is no good coffee in Hell (that’s why it’s called HELL, right). There is this brown-colored urine the locals call coffee, but it is still actually urine.

While the coffee sucks big time, the food is slightly better. Not because we’re eating at any of Hell’s fancy restaurants, but because Michael has thoughtfully stocked our hotel room with goodies from the local Piggley Wiggley (yes, there are Piggley Wiggley’s in Hell). So while Michael enjoy-, er, endures the string of luncheons and receptions hosted by his geek-fest, the kids and I are surviving on PBJs, bananas, and microwaveable soup (we brought our own microwave just for this purpose).

I had had hopes for wireless internet connection during our stay, but broadband in Hell costs $10 a day and we can only afford one day, so this is it. Not a huge loss though, as I’ve had dial-up that runs faster than Hell’s broadband. In any event, you won’t hear from me again until I manage to escape, a feat of daring which involves making another NINE-HOUR CAR DRIVE back through South Carolina, North Carolina, and part of Virginia. Hopefully this will happen on Monday. Oh, did I mention Sam hates car trips? Pray for me.

Of course, my current trials are nothing. Michael’s geek-fest is an annual thing, and next year it’s being held in a different part of Hell known as Hawaii. Getting there involves a NINE-HOUR trip on a plane. Michael says we’re going. I say only he’s going… In a shoe box.

Signing off now. See you in a week.

Maybe.

If I ever get out of Hell.

Want To Go To Hogwarts?

Saw this on the internet this morning – Harry Potter theme park set to open – TODAY: Books – TODAYshow.com

Earlier this year, we took a vacation to Disney World that involved months of research and planning on my husband’s part. There were spreadsheets for everything, including comparisons of resorts, meal packages, rental cars, dates to attend, etc. Michael put so much thought into this vacation, you would have thought we were going to the Moon rather than a terrestrial theme park. But as he put it, this was all for Cassie’s fourth birthday and he wanted to make sure our little princess had a good time.

Michael is not a big Harry Potter fan, but I’m thinking he’ll put the same effort into a vacation to this place as well. He better. I may not be a princess, but I am a witch, and I’ll turn my husband into a toad if he doesn’t take me to see Hogwarts!

More Disney Memories – Sam Grows

During the last few weeks, Sam has grown quite a bit. She learned to sit up all on her own the week before we left for Disney, and was quite proud of herself. While we were in Orlando, she learned how to clap her hands and she started crawling. Plus, Sam also started eating solid food. She was quite insistent about it. No way was she going to let the rest of the family sample the gourmet cuisine in Disney World and not get a taste herself. The biggest change however, was Sam’s weight. I had to haul little Miss Chunky Butt all through Disney, and let me tell you, that kid just got heavier by the hour. By the time we got home, my left arm and shoulder had seized up from carrying Sam so much. And why did I carry her so much? Because the little fart figured out if she said “Mama!” she could have whatever she wanted.

Smart kid.