Meanwhile, a Quote of the Day.

Bear with me: I’m drowning in report writing, editing, screaming, revising, crying, and, hopefully, submission. While I am exhausting myself with all the verbing, I bring you a converastion from last night while I was giving little Miss Bee a happy thought while tucking her in.

Me: Why don’t you think about all the fun things we’re going to do on vacation? This year we might go to a theme park called StoryLand, with lots of rides and a roller coaster and teacups, and…
Bee: They have rides? I like rides!
Me: Yes, I know! We’ll have to spend two days in New Hampshire if we go there.
Bee: New Hampshire lets you SLEEP THERE?!

Poor little Bee, her mind blown by the fact that an entire state is not one big day trip. One whose motto is not, apparently, “Live free and AWAKE…or else we’ll kick you out. Love, New Hampshire.” Heh.

Feeling all White Rabbitish.

When my alarm clock went off this morning, I had no idea what was going on. Give a girl 10 days off from life and she forgets everything, apparently. Even the most basic, bane-of-her-existence type things like, say, the function of her alarm clock.

Eventually I remembered what the heck it was and how the frick to shut it off and what time really I was supposed to get up (silly snooze buttons). Then I remembered how hard it is to get sleepy little childrens ready for school and out the door. I also remembered how much I hate yelling at them that we’re FOR THE LOVE OF GOD late again.

But I got them packed off to their dad’s for morning drop-off and I got myself all the way to ThePlaceWeShallNotDiscuss without once forgetting how to get anywhere. Except when I pulled in the driveway is when I remembered that I forgot my laptop at home. You know – it was that thing I stepped around twice this morning so I could get out the door. Silly Katie.

Oh well. That’s the way that goes I guess. Now I just have to muddle through my inbox chock-o-block full of reminders and deadlines and questions. If I can do that for three weeks, then I get another two weeks off. Hooray! I don’t know about you, but I’m already thinking: pajamas and take-out for dinner! Ohhhh yeah.

She left me…she really left me!

Sniff.

My sister is gone. Gone are the nightly debriefs. The very tasty dinners. The Rummy 500 and Sorry-athons we settled into whilst watching such educational shows as Bones, BBC’s Sherlock Holmes, Harry Potter movies, and Storm Chasers. Gone is my tireless co-parent. Sigh. I called Kim (or texted her through my brother, who was picking her up) three times Saturday and Sunday to tell her I was hungry and do you know what she said? She said I had to cook my own damn dinners! Gah!

For the first time in our very Sorry history, Kim beat the pants off me. I think our final month-long tally was 32-30. (Yeah, that's total games, not points. We're Winners!)

Tales from Vacationland: Fooooood, Grommit!

One of the things I miss about New England – and believe me, there are plenty – is that we don’t seem to have any quaint little, inexpensive, family run breakfast joints around here. Okay, yes, the statement I have just uttered might be false: I will grant you the fact that 1) I am not a morning person and 2) I am not exactly a breakfast person, so it’s certainly feasible that these hidden establishments are just not noticeable during normal daylight hours. Be that as it may, the fact remains that my hometown and most of the surrounding areas contain a bevy of fine dining establishments known as diners and Tejas (or the greater DFW metroplex, at least) does not.

There’s a rather quaint diner quite near Auntie Kim’s house. We’ll call the Track 9 a diner even though it isn’t actually housed in an old dining car. I make the exception because the Track 9 is modeled after (if not actually located in? it wasn’t quite clear) an old railroad station depot. I know – you never would have guessed from the name. The first time I visited back in March, I knew I would have to bring the girls. To the left of the entry is your average restaurant-arrangement seating; however, the right-hand side of the diner has a few booths and a counter with several stools from which you can watch the short-order cook ready your order. And the best part? When he’s finished, he yells, “Order up!” and sets the plates on the counter. My girls have been playing restaurant and yelling “Order up!” far too often (and too loudly) for my taste for months. They would LOVE this place!

And I have to admit, they did. Our first morning there, we sat the counter so the girls could have a “genuine” diner experience. The staff – practically all of whom know my sister and her best friend by sight – spoke directly to the girls and treated them like adults. The girls just ate that up. Bee, although half asleep, looked at the model railroad tracks and old coins that were shellacked into the counter and then drew on her placemat. Gracie watched the cook, plagued her aunts with questions and stared at the group of men across the way.

A bunch of regulars streamed in while we were eating. Salty old men who regaled the waitresses with cheap lines and long stories of their weekends. I missed dearly the way New Englanders will talk to you across the counter as you share your meal, flirt with your children, and change their stories on their toes so as not to offend young ears – while pretending they didn’t, naturally. Listen to their thick accents and tall tales and – somehow – their family ancestries was almost as good as the homecooked food. (Which was incredibly tasty and dirt cheap – two qualities that make up diner eating, as everyone should have the good fortune to know.)

Ah, Track 9. I already miss you. One more thing beckoning me home.

 

 

Guest Post: The missing countdown.

Submitted yesterday by my very lovely sister Kim:

I cannot believe there aren’t any lists or countdowns or insane squeeing going on here about our upcoming vacation.  TWO WEEKS!  Two weeks and Katie and the girls will be flying into Logan Airport for a weeklong adventure.  And when I say adventure, I mean all the fun and friends and family we can squeeze into six days of C-R-A-Z-Y.  There’s the Science Center (which has long since been renamed “The Ecotarium,” but whatevs – we knew them back when they weren’t all cool and famous).  We had a family membership more often than not when we were growing up and spent many a Saturday buzzing through the classic and rotating exhibits, strolling through the mini-zoo of rescued animals, and sometimes maybe spotting escaped peacocks (True. Story.).  Plus the girls might be old enough now to enjoy a show at the planetarium!  Then there’s our mandatory tea party.  Even Uncle Joey comes (though wearing neither a tutu NOR a bowtie, sadcakes).  That might take a morning of baking to prepare, between my mom’s traditional blueberry cake, some mayan hotties, maybe a batch of mint brownies, and two little helpers in the kitchen.  I’d also love to get the girls (and Grandma) painting rocks for my side garden.  There’s a tiny metal bird cage that NEEDS a rock inside painted with a lil birdie.
 
The Big Event, though, is a day trip up to the Weirs on Lake Winnepausaukee.  We went every summer between 1988 and 1995 at the end of August when the rental rates dropped.  When we brought the girls there for the first time two summers ago, I couldn’t believe the magical spot still existed!  This year, we’re planning a morning at the beach (yick!  no sand on Auntie Kim’s humungous blanket!!), lunch at Tamarack’s, maybe a trip to the Old Country Store in Moultonborough (which opened in the late 1700s and has the oddest assortment of goods), definitely a stop at the largest arcade in the country, Fun Spot.  We’d like to fit in a train ride along the lake and we’ll probably eat “dinner” on the boardwalk.  I’m sure the girls will fall asleep on the ride back, but it’ll be worth it even if there are a few crankypants around the following morning.
 
Of course, the two weeks before this Epic Vacation require their own lists.  Clean all the guest bedding and towels, print out directions to Logan and back to Worcester, secure enough coffee to keep Rhianyn AND Katie afloat, oh – and pack my OWN bags for flying back to Texas with the girls.  (Hurray!)  I don’t even want to know what Katie has to accomplish before leaving…I’d rather just think about the hiking, eating, laughing to come!

No more fun for me.

And just like that, with only one day out in the sunshine, my sister is gone. And with her goes all of the yum. I’m gonna miss that girl when I have to cook “real” dinners. No more picnics of roasted veggies and whatever else we can cobble together.

No more whimsy tossed carelessly into a blender or a baking pan.

No more drunken realizations that knives are better for stabbing, not stirring.

No more scary, scary bottles of (really good) wine pulled straight out of a Stephen King novel.

Just one last meal of deliciousness Saturday night from our Confederated States of Yum to yours: Mozzarella sticks, roasted cauliflower, fresh Italian bread, roasted asparagus and homemade spinach artichoke dip. Yum, yum, yum.

How am I ever going to make it to March without her?

Kim would like you to know…

…that she wins.

(Me: Oh, sure we have to count to see by how much…
Kim: Twenty-one, twenty-two, shut up, twenty-three…)

For the record, there was wine and Storm Chasers involved. I may have been distracted!

Go ahead and hate me.

Remember when I was busy pretending I didn’t have a vacation coming up for which I had to pack? For three people? For various climes? (The highs at my mom’s house are supposed to be in the mid-80s, the lows in the mid-50s. That narrows down my packing NONE AT ALL.) Remember how that was just last week, like Friday?

Yeah, I’m all packed.

I pulled together eight outfits for the girls, picked up prescriptions from Walgreens, returned library books, bought books for the plane ride, went to Target twice because I realized later that Gracie had outgrown every single pair of jeans she owned, went back to Walgreens to fill a prescription for Gracie because she has a horrendous case of swimmer’s ear, and picked out eight outfits for myself (after trying them all on). And I still had time to pull together all of the activities and books to keep the kids occupied during the flight.  It was a very busy Saturday. But I’m packed.

Oh, I still have the minor details like medicine, toiletries, earrings (my grown-up “superpowers” lie in my earrings, people) and, of course, all the things I’ll remember over the next three days that I’ve forgotten. At this point I’m betting that I forget to charge the camera, iPod, and DVD player. That would equal disaster. So: I am summoning all of the mental energy I have left to do that Monday night.

My current dilemma is what to do with the booster seats. Both girls still need them. I can rent them from the rental car company for the low, low price of $10/day. Each. For those of you still doing the math, that comes to a grand total of $160. Or, I can pack my booster seats into a piece of luggage and pay the $30 each way to check it. Plan B puts me $110 ahead. That’s a nice chunk of change, isn’t it? The problem is that I would have to drag around the extra luggage. Last year I didn’t even bother figuring out the math – it was my first trip flying solo with the girls, I had the checked luggage of enormous proportions, three backpacks that weighed about 30 lbs a piece, a purse filled to the brim, and two girls to corral – and I had Auntie Kim to help! This year I have it down to one piece of checked luggage, one backpack of moderate heft, and a kids-sized rollerbag that Gracie is more than happy (and capable) to manage. So I might be able to swing another checked bag…but then again, I’m doing it all on my own this year.

Decisions, decisions. I keep waffling back and forth. I could just splurge and spend $160 on peace of mind…but I hate knowing I’m blowing $110 needlessly, too. Especially when I know it will be an expensive vacation filled with lots of eating out and fun things to do!

What do you guys think? Pay for peace of mind? Or act like the penny-pinching yankee I usually am?

A tale of two sisters.

Did you know that today is Wednesday? Yes! Wednesday! Somehow the fact that my baby sister is visiting on Saturday escaped me until almost the last minute. I have plans to make, rooms to clean, sheets to change, groceries to buy, and have I mentioned plans to make?  So far, I have a grocery list (half) created and tentative plans to take Auntie Rhi to the zoo to steal an elephant. Or, something. But first, I should really try to find her itinerary so I know when I need to pick her up from the airport.

And then there’s the other sister. Kim, of the problematic organs. Her surgery has finally been scheduled…for the week when no one is around. So I am going to fly up to Philly and be her person while it all goes down. Then, Sars will fly down and finish monitoring Kim’s recovery period. Hopefully, all goes well and they can perform the operation laproscopically, as planned. However, her surgeon did warn her that if her organs make any sudden movements or show signs of staging a coup, they’re going to open her old school ninja style to tamp down the resistance. That would make for a bumpier recovery. So we’re planning for every contingency and loading up on movies, groceries, episodes of Stormchasers and Big Bang Theory, and board games.

So, I have Rhi scheduled for May, Kim scheduled for June, I’ll have to suffer, family-less, throughout July, but then we jet off to Massachusetts to visit the fam the first week of August. If people would just stop falling apart, it could be a fun summer full o’ adventures.