Happy Anniversary

I sure am getting behind--I keep meaning to write about our fun anniversary, and that was over a month ago now.

The anniversary itself was on a Thursday, so we kept it simple (to start with) and went to Tulsa for dinner. I had to show Uchenna the online menu to convince him that the Cheesecake Factory served more than desserts, but once we got there we both quite liked it. Perhaps a tad pricier than our usual, but good for a special occasion.

Since we were by a full-sized mall (not a common occurance) we perused the sales for anniversary gifts. You can't beat coming home with yummy left-overs and a new red sweater.

Uchenna had taken Friday off, so we slept in the next morning, then took off again, this time for Oklahoma City. It takes 2 1/2 hours to get there, which somehow feels significantly longer than the two hours it takes from Ponca.

There's stuff to do in Tulsa, surely, but we know OKC better and besides, that's where the temple is (which we've tried to make an anniversary tradition). After the temple Friday night we wanted to find a cool little place with live jazz, but apparently we don't know OKC that well after all.

The next morning we went downtown to the Crystal Bridge, a tropical and cylindrical green house. True to its name, it has a bridge through the treetops two stories up. It also has a waterfall. Pretty darn cool.

(An outside view of the glass-clad cylinder that is the Crystal Bridge. It has a bridge inside, but the building itself is also a bridge in that it spans a pond; as you walk around the pond, you walk right underneath the building.)

Uchenna pointed out lots of plants he knew from home--it was like a reunion of old friends. We saw banana trees, cocoyam, pineapple plants, opetemmuo (that's the Igbo name, we're not sure it has an English name), big bamboo trees, and others too numerous to mention. Uche told me how each one grows and how they're used. Like the enormous cocoyam leaf that can act as an umbrella in a pinch. Now I know what to expect when we go to Nigeria.

(We're sitting in front of the opetemmuo--the long stalky plant on our left. On our right is a little thatched hut. On the bench you can see our coats, which we needed outside but which were too warm inside the green house. That's how you keep tropical plants happy, I guess.)

(Up on the bridge amidst the tops of the trees--can you see the coconuts in the tree behind me? I'm squinting because it was so bright up there.)

(Back outside. There's Uchenna at the end of the bridge. And if you look carefully, on the right you can see the sillouette of a person walking along the water, under the building. And you can see daylight from the other side.)

Afterwards we walked around the park outside and enjoyed the crisp weather and fall colors--a perfect fall day, just like the day we got married.

(Fall foilage, with a tall building in the background to remind you that you're still in the city.)

Boy, are we safe

As much as we like Spring--weather turning warmer, days getting longer, foilage coming back to life--the threat of tornados ruins it for us.

When we went to buy a new house Uchenna was determined to safeguard his family and his peace of mind. But there are very few basements around here. In Ponca, they said it was due to high water table; here in Bartlesville, it's because you hit bedrock pretty quick. Apparently, excavating through bedrock is incredibly costly. In spite of these challenges, Uchenna found a solution: he negotiated for a steel safe room to be installed in the garage. Just keep that in mind if you ever have to strike a deal with him--he can sure barGAIN (as he says).

So a week after we moved in, the safe room company rep came to check out our premises. He declared our site acceptable, with good concrete and plenty of space. It's a relief to know we have good concrete, since that isn't usually addressed in the inspection (light sarcasm), but we didn't quite believe him about the space. Because once we pulled the car in (which we somehow neglected to do while shopping for the house), the garage shrunk dramatically.

After he left, we kept measuring. I set up a box so that it created a wall four feet out from the back of the garage--the alleged size of the safe room--then pulled in the car and made sure the garage door would close without taking off the back bumper. It was good, but barely. No room for crooked parking.

Then a couple of weeks later, the safe room itself showed up. The installers had to push back the appointment by a day, because the day before we'd had torrential (and I don't use that word lightly) rains. Our appointment was in the afternoon, while the morning appointment was at a new construction site. They had tried to talk that guy into rescheduling, but I guess he had to keep to his construction deadlines. Anyway, the equipment got impossibly mired in all the mud and took the rest of the day to get unstuck.

So the next morning two guys brought the safe room. Basically it's exactly what it says it is: a steel safe the size of a small room. More like a closet, actually, but "safe closet" is unweildy to say. Also it has a deadbolt rather than a combination lock, but more on that later.

They maneuvered the shiny white box, still smelling of fresh spray paint, into the before-determined spot and bolted it into place. It looked like heavy work--pushing the heavily laden dolly, drilling through concrete, pounding the bolts into place, and vacuuming up all the concrete dust (okay, that last one was more like the cool-down).

(He's using a version of a stud finder to find possible rebar. There wasn't any, but the concrete was at least a couple of inches thick, so it was all good.)

They gave me my briefing. Let's just say they take security very seriously. The safe room and its location are registered with the American Storm Shelter Association, so if a devastating event occurs, the Association can alert first responders to the site of possible survivors. That's almost a direct quote.

(On the top you can see the air vents and at the back you can see an electrical input. You can plug in an extension cord on the outside and a light or a fan on the inside. But as the installer pointed out, during a storm you often lose power anyway.)

Then there are the deadbolts: three of them, with a ledge on the outside of the door that makes the bolts impossible to reach and therefore cut through. Also the keys can only be duplicated at one particular locksmith shop in Tulsa, and then only by those people previously authorized (Uchenna and myself--I had to write our names on a little card that they'll apparently keep on file). So we can be sure that in the event of damaging winds (including tornado) or human attack (which we're not concerned about out here but, hey, it's good to know), we'll be safe in our safe room.

One final note, we really do have enough room to park the car. Shwew. We aim for that gap to the left of the steel closet and drive in slowly. If we remember to stand up that black plastic tube (an attachement to our leaf blower), we inch forward until we knock it over. Otherwise we just guess. We could also bump right up against the wall of the safe room, but as I said before, that doesn't leave much room for error (about an inch and a half leeway when you line it up straight). And as the very presence of the safe room attests, we aren't interested in risk.

Birthday

Yesterday I turned four-oh. A little hard to believe, but I'm trying not to dwell on the number. I have whole theories on the deceptive, seductive nature of numbers anyway. What is important is that it was my special day. Go me. And thank you to everyone who left happy birthday wishes on my Facebook wall.

Last year was lots of fun, with a bunch of people coming over for cake (mmmm, cake). But as they say, you can't step in the same river twice, especially when that river has relocated to a new city where you don't know anyone yet. I considered bringing cupcakes to the scripture study class that meets Tuesday mornings, but didn't get around to it. It wasn't that it's such a second-grade thing to do. Mostly, I didn't want to call that much attention to myself this early in the game, and besides, I was out of cupcake papers.

While one might think it would look bleak, thanks to a certain sweet husband, the birthday did not suffer. I was sitting in the aforementioned scripture study class (sans cupcakes) when my cell phone rang. It was a local spa telling me that my husband had arranged a massage for me and when would I like to make the appointment? Woohoo.

Then we went out for dinner. Since we're less than an hour from Tulsa, our dinner options have greatly expanded. Uchenna's parents are visiting for a little while, so the three of us picked up Uchenna early from work and headed into town. There's a quaint little shopping/dinning place right downtown (surrounded by huge bank and hospital buildings) called Utica Square. We'd heard it advertised, so we figured this was a chance to explore the city a little.

We ventured out and did eventually find it, though we ended up seeing more of Tulsa than we'd intended. Our GPS got a little mixed up. They're not infallible, it turns out (in fact, our GPS thinks we live in the middle of an open field. We put in our "current position" as "home" and it shows a little house surrounded by a lot of nothing. Once we reach the last acknowledged intersection, the voice instructs us to "navigate off-road"). So we had to be creative with our instructions to the GPS, ask a passing pedestrian, and go up and down Utica Ave a couple of times.

After all that adventure, we decided to mix in a little of the familiar and chose PF Chang's (mmm, lettuce wraps). That's always a lively place, and besides, with four of us, it was very festive. So it was a very lovely birthday all around.

Notes from a new house

You know how you can't really know someone until you live with them--whether you decide to room with a friend or marry the guy you're dating? It's the same with a house. Even if you look at it carefully multiple times (even if you sneak in to microwave your lunch while it's still a model home), you can't know how it feels to live in it until you actually live in it.

For instance. The front door has these plain glass panes. When we saw the house before, we didn't notice how see-through the door is because the builders hadn't yet put in blinds (Uchenna negotiated for those--very essential) so all the windows were blank and un-shuttered, anyway. But the first night here we felt completely on display, not to mention the fierce late afternoon sun that filled the front room. There's no convenient, separate entrance way to block view or light.

In fact, if you stand there at the door you can look straight into the master bedroom. I started to change once, looked up and saw out to the street, and went diving for the bedroom door. Once was enough to learn my lesson: if I'm in the bedroom at all, that door is CLOSED. Actually, I think there's a thing like wallpaper for windows, gives it a frosted look. We'll have to look into that.

(The view from inside the bedroom. The camera creates a handy veil of light to screen the door, but believe me, if you were standing here you would see the front yard, the street, and the house across the street.)

Another for instance. The tile in the kitchen and hardwood in the living room are very lovely, but it's called hard for a reason. The first night, my legs were aching from standing around on hard surfaces all day. But after that I was fine. I don't know if it just took me a day to toughen up or that I wear my sandals now most of the time as a precautionary measure. Anyway, I'll say I'm acclimatized. Although we still don't pray out in the living room. Too hard on the knees.

I can also tell I'm getting used to the house because I can finally get the car in the garage without backing up a couple of times or getting out of the car to see if it's all the way in.

(Can you see the many curved tire marks showing where I had to back up and try again? Of course Uchenna got it right the first time.)

I'm still feeling tempted to label all the light switches, but I remember this feeling from the last time we moved. And at our old house I did eventually learn which switch went to what (and which went to nothing), so I'll try to be patient. Although I wouldn't mind an excuse to get a label-maker.

Finally, along with the blinds we also asked for a wooden privacy fence, which the builder granted. We still think it's a good, practical idea, though we hadn't realized how enclosed it would make us feel, or how we would miss the great view out over the open field. We also didn't know the fencers would show up and start pounding away at 7:30 on a Saturday morning--and again at 7:00 on a Sunday morning. Way to antagonize our new neighbors before we even meet them.

(We still catch a small glimpse of the world beyond. Uchenna says we just have to make the view inside as good the one outside, with trees and flowers and things.)

One useful piece of information we learned from watching them work: this soil is ROCKY. If we want a garden (theoretically), we'll have to build up beds on top of the ground. Does it often take a jackhammer to dig postholes?

Moving

Shwew, we're finally moved in.

The packers came at 8 o'clock Monday morning and by the time Uchenna came home for lunch they were finishing up. I guess we don't have much stuff. They could have easily loaded and taken everything that day, but since they'd planned to load the second day they hadn't brought the truck.

Last time we moved, the moving company gave us all kinds of instructions on how to prepare for them, what things they couldn't carry, and so forth. This time they didn't say much. But it turns out that since we were just moving in-state, they could take everything without all that special preparation. Really, my only job was just to put aside the things we didn't want them to load up.

Turns out I didn't do my job all that well. For instance, I didn't think through what we would eat and how we would eat it. Or like when Uchenna said, where's my shaver, I had to say, I think it's in one of these boxes here. Or when he said, let's go get the certified check to take to closing tomorrow--where's the checkbook that they said we should bring? I had to say, oh gosh, it's probably buried in one of those boxes over there (although that worked out all right, because the bank didn't really need a check from us afterall, and they even waived the certified check fee). And finally, I did want to take a picture of all the activity, but who knew where the camera ended up.

Again on Tuesday the movers moved very quickly, like a whirlwind. We had to take off for Bartlesville, to sign our life away, very early in the morning. The movers came at 8 again, and by the time we were driving home about 11, they called to let us know they were finished and taking off. We came home to a completely empty house. I was reminded of the Grinch, who "on their walls left only some hooks and some wires."

So we got to work cleaning. Unfortunately, I thought we should also clean the oven, which wouldn't be difficult since it's self-cleaning. I've never tried it before, so it really was in need of some attention. After about a half an hour of cleaning at high heat, though, the whole thing went blank. The electronics panel was VERY hot, and it just looks like it fried. We had our realtor look at it the next day, to see if it came back to life when it cooled down. In her words, it was deader n' a hammer.

So we have repair guys coming on Monday. We're just hoping it won't take months to get a part, like last time the oven had a problem. We actually suspect that with that last repair, maybe the guy didn't replace the necessary insulation--because why would the electronics get so hot, when it's supposed to be designed to take the high heat of a self-cleaning oven?

On Wednesday, the movers delivered everything. Now we're just arranging it all. And suddenly, what seemed like not much stuff looks like a lot. For instance, in our last house the look was spare and clean--here the living room is full of furniture. I'm also missing my lovely built in bookcases, where we had all our movies and music, games and decorative knick-knacks. Anyway, we've got the living room and kitchen settled and livable--just need to get the pictures on the walls--and over time we'll get the stuffed, chaotic back rooms (where everything is hiding) in good order.

The Mighty Hunters

House hunting is by far the most fun part of relocating--okay, it's the only fun part. It's like an elephant-sized shopping trip. You get to explore all these houses and imagine yourself living in each one. And even though you have a very definite price range in mind, you blithely ignore it until it comes time to make some decisions.

(Can you see me reflected in the mirror? When you look at about 10 houses in one morning, you need pictures and copious notes to keep them from all blending together--at least, I do.)

You also see some wierd things along the way. For instance, this house looked very promising online--new, pretty, and reasonably priced:

But see that odd shadow falling across it? What could that be? This is what we saw as we drove up:

We said, "Ahhh! Beware the giant mushroom!" I guess it looks more like a very plain hot air balloon about to take off. The closer we got, the huger it seemed to grow. Really, what builder thought it'd be a good idea to put a house directly across the street from something like that? We didn't bother to go inside.

We also drove right past any house next to a big drainage ditch. We have a couple of friends who lived next to a similar ditch here in town, and they had to constantly--like monthly--get their place sprayed for bugs. Ewww!

Then there was one house, cute on the outside, nicely priced, and built in 2000. But when we went in we had our doubts. It had that sculptured carpet from the 80's, wallpaper, one of those kitchen box lights. We kept saying, "THAT'S not from 2000." We decided it had to be from the late 80's, maybe early 90's at a stretch. Then our realtor said she knew a trick. She took off the top of a toilet tank, and the date of manufacture was imprinted underneath. 1990. Ah hah! We knew it. Mystery solved. We couldn't have seriously considered that house, anyway, since it smelled strongly of smoke.

(Could this be the one? Actually, it was the runner-up. I like the porch.)

We narrowed our search down to two houses, but the one that lost out wouldn't have worked anyway. It had a great, huge garage that even opened into the backyard. Perfect for a boat or RV, right? Well, we don't have one of those, nor do we plan to get one anytime soon. Plus, it really was out of our price range. At some point fantasy has to give way to real life.

(If one had a boat or camper, one could make good use of this garage's back door. Unfortunately, we are not that one.)

Anyway, I like the one we finally came up with. I think I'll miss our lovely mature trees (as they say in the real estate ad), but I'll find new things to love. Now we just have to get all the money and paperwork lined up for our closing on the 25th.

(Ooh, ahh. I think we have a winner.)

Summer Storms

Looks like we're in for a storm. The sky to the west is dark and murky, and lightening over there is getting more prominent. The forecast calls for 90% chance of precipitation, but not severe thunderstorms--meaning there should be rumblings and rain, but not hail or tornados. I hope we don't have to clean up broken trees again.

(The rain last week was clearly too much for the rain gutters to handle.)

Last week a short but dramatic storm blew through. When Uchenna and I were driving home, a few fat raindrops started hitting the windshield, and a few minutes after we pulled in, it all seemed to break loose. It's been a while since I've seen rain come down in sheets like that. Between all that water and the wind tossing our trees about, it looked like a hurricane. We were mildly concerned that the small hail clattering against our windows, blowing in sideways with some force behind it, might break the glass. But it was fine. And it was over in about a half an hour.

(That tree left the back yard a mess)

It did leave branches scattered all over town, though, including in our own backyard. I don't think cottonwood trees are very strong. And who would plant cottonwood anyway, with all that annoying fluffiness they blow around? But we've got one. And it dropped a couple of branches in the backyard.

(This branch fell outside the fence, into the school field, and took a bite out of the fence on the way. I'm really glad nothing fell on the house.)

We thought about investing in loppers or some other yard implement to clean it up, but actually it's amazing how much you can get done with brute strength: Uchenna just pulled down that one that was still partly attached, and we both pulled off twigs or broke sticks over our knees. Oh, and we did have our small bypass shears. The kind made for roses, yes, those ones. Besides, the house we're going to won't need loppers or anythings for several years. The trees are tiny, and no bushes to speak of.


(After work the next day, Uchenna and I gathered all the smallish pieces into neat, bushy piles.)


(Almost done.)

So we bundled it up and set it out with the trash. Except for a few larger pieces. Our neighbor and fellow church-member came over with his chain saw and made short work of whatever was left. I have to say chainsaws scare me, I don't really want to own one, but I appreciate people who do.

(Our neighbor's chainsaw chewed through the bigger pieces in short order. He came prepared with his ear protection and everything, but somehow the headphones never made it to his ears. You can see them sitting around his neck.)

Anyway, it has started to rain now, and the thunder rumblings are constant, but I don't think it's going to get much more interesting. Which is fine with me. Besides, what about all the people and horses and bulls that are gathering for the big 50th anniversary 101 Ranch Rodeo? We pass the rodeo grounds on the way to work, and they're all camped out there with their trailers. I don't think a big, blowing storm would be a good thing for them.

For Sale

(Yes, a sign, in front of our own house. Sigh.)

You know that kid's rhyme game: "can't go over it, can't go under it, gotta go through it"? That's how I feel with this whole moving thing. There's no way to side-step or short-cut this long, hairy, complicated process. Just gotta go through it, step by step.


(The first sign is our own. How many can you see behind it? Hint: a blue one, another brown one, and a red one)

As the first part of the process we've got our house listed for sale. This makes life a little exciting because people can come look at it with as little as 30 minutes notice. I've never cleaned so much in my life. I tell you, it's unnatural. You know the video of the house on the realtor's website (http://www.visualtour.com/applets/flashviewer2/viewer.asp?t=1941060&sk=6) that shows our spacious, white counters? Frankly, no one can live with counters that cleared-off. You guys who have kids and have sold houses--how do you even do it? I'm so ready to get back to my usual laissez-faire housekeeping.

We also did a couple little repairs. I know, why should a house need repairs after only one year? But it's like this. In the spring--before the heat and flies got out of control--I would leave the doors open and let playful breezes blow through. Sometimes, though, the breezes would get overly fiesty and slam the door so hard that it knocked part of the door frame loose (that little strip that the door rests against when it's closed). Oops.

So we had our friend Brian, an expert woodworker, come help us put it back together. I learned all kinds of little tricks, like drilling a guide hole for the nail to avoid splitting the wood. And hammering the nail in most of the way, then setting it and covering it over with putty. Now, the door is not only secure and sturdy, but looks totally smooth and professional. You know if I'd been in charge of that repair, it would be all split, with obvious nails surrounded by hammer indentations. I love learning tricks of the trade.

We also discovered the virtues of recaulking. A sink goes from stained and deteriorating to fresh and new in a matter of moments. But watch out--that caulk splooges everywhere, and once it sticks it won't let go.


(This is actually a picture from a couple of months ago, when Uchenna fixed a leaky, squealing faucet.)

We had the missionaries over for dinner the night we re-caulked the kitchen sink. Of course we couldn't let the caulking get wet for something like 24 hours. It's a little tricky making dinner, especially for guests, when you can't use your kitchen sink. I'm just saying.

I also did a little beautifying of my own to get the house ready for its photo shoot. We bought a couple of pots for our mantle months ago, intending them for flower arrangements. I don't really get around to things unless I have a deadline, though. So that morning before the realtor came over to take pictures, I bought silk greenery and flowers, foam and moss. I think they turned out pretty nice, considering I'd never done anything like that before--and in spite of the huge mess the moss made. I got it cleaned up just in time. Shwew.

So those were the fix-ups we could take care of ourselves. Today I've got to call a couple of roofing companies for bids on fixing some roof issues. Hail damage--no big surprise, but grrrr.

I suppose this work would need to be done whether we were selling the house or not. But if someone would just come buy it, it would make it seem so much more worthwhile. We've had two appointments to view it and 27 people at the open house. So far no nibbles, though.

No, there is too much, let me sum up

Since last I left you, life has been a whirlwind. From Aspen Grove we went to San Francisco, where Uchenna had a conference and I bummed around; then our friends, with their two boys (ages 5 and 2), came for a week; then we started the process of preparing our house to sell; then we started house hunting; and then . . . . (deeeep breath). Shwew!

But first, San Francisco.

(in front of Golden Gate Bridge--with our very necessary warm sweatshirts)

We were sure glad we'd bought sweatshirts in Utah, because California was even colder than the mountains had been--in a wet, misty sort of way. That, along with the terrible cough I picked up in Utah, kept me from doing as much as I wanted. But I'm sure I went out more than maybe I should have.

(the view out our window--with Pier One, and the Bay Bridge on the right)

The hotel--the Hyatt Regency--was pretty fabulous, with monumental architecture right behind Pier One. Also, I loved the little street-car train. We took it up to Fisherman's Wharf area almost every day.

(the inside of the hotel, rising 17 stories)

One time I tried going in the other direction, out to Golden Gate Park, but I accidentally got on a bus instead and ended up in a place I don't think I was supposed to be. It was okay--I had a transfer, so I got off and took the next bus back. But I never did get out to Golden Gate Park.

(looking down on the green street-car train we often took; I don't know the point of the owl)

We ate in China Town and at Pier 39, with the week's menu full of fish. Even at the big banquet, which was my part of the Conference, we chose the salmon. The banquet was multiple courses and pretty amazing, and who knew a bunch of chemical engineers could be so funny. We also bought chocolate at Ghirardelli Square, supposedly as gifts for friends back in Ponca City. But I ate most of it, so there was only enough left to give as a thank-you to the family that mowed our lawn while we were away.

Of course we rode the cable car--although Uchenna wasn't quite as taken with the iconic experience as I thought he should be.

(Uchenna after our ride in the cable car)

And we took pictures in front of the Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz. So I think we got the SanFran experience. Next time we're out there, we'll actually go across the bridge and we'll take the boat to The Rock.

(A blustery day at the beach, with Alcatraz behind us, just before the wind blew off my hat)

The big trip, part 1 (Aspen Grove)

I wish I'd taken more pictures! One, now I need to rely on all you photo hounds to post your shots so I can unabashadly steal them (thanks to those of you who have started).

And two, I don't have shots of all the friends we met up with in Provo and Orem. We really worked to squeeze them all in--from my UVSC colleagues and Uchenna's BYU research group that we saw on Wednesday, to former roommates and our Country Springs Branch family that we saw Saturday and Sunday. Plus we stayed with our good friend, Eugene, before and after the reunion.

You can't help but feel warm and fuzzy about people who seem so glad to see you, and I wish I had pictures to capture the moment. Ah well, I was too busy enjoying the moment to whip out the camera.

Anyway, we started our trip by leaving our car at the Mistubishi dealership in Tulsa. We had to get new tires and some other maintenance, and they said we could leave the car there rather than paying to park it at the airport. They shuttled us to the airport and back. Pretty handy. Okay, maybe the cost of airport parking would've been a lot less than the $700 we spent on maintenance, but we had to get the stuff done, regardless.

Once we got to Utah, we got to work visiting people, as I mentioned. Actually, it was a good thing we spent a little time at BYU Wednesday afternoon, because Utah was surprisingly chilly. We had packed for the weather in Oklahoma, which has been HOT. It is summer, after all. But when Provo was fairly cool, we knew we'd be in trouble up in the mountains. So at BYU I bought school sweatshirts. As Jason said, that's why we looked so school-spirited.

By the way, here's a grateful shout-out to all those who gave us rides. Hilary and Kojo Davis took us from the airport to Provo; Eugene shuttled us around town; Aaron Nakkos drove us up to Aspen Grove and back to the airport. You guys are all lifesavers! And an extra-special thank you to the incredibly kind people in our Ponca City ward--Steve and Barbara Wood--who mowed our lawn while we were gone. You know how this Oklahoma grass can go crazy.

Of course Aspen Grove was a highlight of the year. Since you were there, I don't think I need to recap everything. I'll just say that while I didn't get much better at bad minton, I think I did improve my ping pong skills.

We loved meeting the new kids on our family block. I felt like I knew Anna, since she's the star of the De Marco blog, but turns out you can't just know someone from their pictures and anecdotes. Plus, I know this is a cliche, but I can't believe how all the kids are growing up. Time really marches on--which is basically its job, I guess.

And we really enjoyed seeing everyone in person. The phone is great for chatting, but there's no real substitute to being able to see and hug the people you care about, and talk and laugh all together in a large group, and converse casually over meals or while waiting for the ropes course. Ahh, family reunions--and we didn't even have to do the dishes.

Thanks to Grandpa, for bringing us all together, and to Mom for doing the leg work, and to all who worked behind the scenes. Thank you, thank you.

Coming attractions: Part 2 of the Big Trip--San Francisco!