I’ve been back from vacation nearly 3 weeks now and I’m just beginning to recover my sanity.  I made tremendous progress on a big project for a department on campus and I actually got some sleep last night.  (I had wierd dreams, mind you, but because I knew that I had been dreaming when I woke up means that I acutally was sleeping, something rare for me in the last few weeks.)  I started school yesterday and I just know I’m going to love my Biblical Theology class.  The Professor is Dr. D. A. Carson.  If one could put a “face” to Trinity Evangelical Divinity School, it would be Dr. Carson’s face.  He has published more, I think, than any other Trinity professor in the last 20 years.  I had high expectations from his class but yesterday he exceeded even those.  I tell you the truth – the man is absolutely brilliant – but he is also stinking funny.  And I mean that in a good way and will all due respect.

As to knitting news, my Trinity bag that I’ve been using for my projects broke on Tuesday.  The strap just came right off.  I suppose that I was placing too many demands on it.  Good thing that I had anticipated this a purchased a new canvas tote from Lands End. (I also purchased these – and boy are they comfy!)  And guess what?  They arrived yesterday.  Perfect timing.  The tote bag is perhaps a tad bit larger than I had anticipated, but I have no doubt that I can grow into it without fear of it breaking.

As to actual knitting projects, since I was a dismal failure at the Ravelrympics (please, no sympathy, let’s just forget the whole thing ever happened), I’ve been focusing again on the SSMO and am making good, steady progress.  The problem with shawls is that they need to be long, a lot longer than a scarf.  So I’m on the verge of beginning to think “how much longer is this going to go on” while actually still being enamored with the pattern.  I think Mom will love it (at least everyone else does…)

Toodles for now!

Okay, here are the pictures (finally!) from my vacation.

First, though, I have to start off with a picture of my favorite Bug.  This was taken days before he lost his first tooth:

Can’t you just see that little devilish grin of his?  He is up to NOTHING!  I have more pictures but they were taken shorting after feeding time and, well, let’s just say that he is not a ”neat” feeder, and his clothing was not presentable afterwards - I surely don’t want to embarrass him, poor little, toothless, bug.

So here is the story of my trip.  I’m sure you’ve read my luggage woes, so I won’t bore you with those details again.  This is Olivia when I first arrived at her house.  Do you think she is happy to see her Tia?

That was about the best face I could have hoped for.

There were plenty of moments like this:

 (don’t worry, no babies were hurt during the filming of this picture.)

There was also swimming:

 (notice that her “eyes” are on…we couldn’t go swimming without them)

Then there was a fashion show – showing off the Elephant in a Backpack that someone (ahem..) bought her…

And finally, the ballerina twirl:

It was a fun week.  Here’s some education for you.  Did you know that 3 1/2 year-olds are good for getting milk out of those coolers at Sam’s Club?

But during the entire week, this was the cutest picture I got.  It is of a sleeping Peanut.

And in case you just don’t see it, here it is up close:

How’s that for a scrumptious little peanut?  Finally, this is Peanut modeling the Baby Surprise Jacket that I made for her…

The trip could not have ended on a better note than that!

On a personal note:  Kris, here is what I looked like on Sunday…proof that I can do my hair, makeup and wear some bling-bling!

Well, the best laid plans for starting a scarf and completing it during the Olympics turned out to be just too much for me.  I have only about 8 inches of a scarf and there is no way that I’ll be able to finish on time for the closing ceremonies.  Which means that I won’t get the coveted Ravelrympics Gold button for my blog.  I guess I have to keep in training and try again in 4 years.  Oh well.  I suppose I’ll survive.

I’ve been back from my so-called “vacation” for over a week now.  Vacations should be relaxing and should attempt to mimic the opposite life-style of when you’re not on vacation (i.e. WORK), but it didn’t happen.  Not to say that I didn’t have a good time – I had a great time.  But it sure was exhausting – completely and utterly exhausting.  I was in Atlanta visiting my sister who just had her second child (Peanut) and stayed with them.  Not being a mother myself nor have I ever raised kids, I was not prepared for the amount of work that went into it.  I lived with a 33-year old, a 3 1/2-year old and a 3-week old plus the husband.  Plus Mom and Dad were near by.  Whew…I had no time to myself.

So I came back from Atlanta on a Thursday night, slept in my bed (yeah bed!) and then went to Bloomington, Indiana to watch my cousin march in the Rosemont Cavailers Alumni Corps that Friday night because his corps (the Cavies) were celebrating their 60th reunion this year.  This is part of the Drum Corps International thing – a large collection of Drum and Bugle Corps who practice and put on shows over the summer and then compete in a final competition.  This is similar to marching band but WAY more INTENSE.  Lloyd looked great on the field and the current Cavies came in a respectable 3rd place this year.  But it also meant that over the course of the weekend I didn’t get home (to my friend’s house) until after midnight each night and I was exhausted.  Still.  I didn’t even make it home – I was so tired that I drove to Michael and Lori’s house, which was closer than mine just so that I could go to bed.

Then last week happened.  For those of who you work in Higher Education, please remember this: NEVER take vacation in AUGUST.  Never.  Don’t even THINK about it.  Should the husband come to you and want to take a last minute trip before the kids go back to school – DON’T DO IT.  You will suffer.  As I have suffered.  There is always last minute pressure from all offices and departments on campus to gear up for the new academic year… pressure that for me, this year at least, is about to result in complete failure to keep my sanity.  It is for this reason that I have not blogged before today….because I have too much work to do and am being pulled in all different directions.  I do promise that should there be any break in the failure process, or any recovery of said “sanity”, and should I remember to bring both my camera and the USB adapter to work with me on the same days…..should all of these things swirl into a vortex and strike me at the right time – I will post some of the cutest Peanut pictures that you’re likely to see.  Pray that it happens soon, please.

Toodles

I’ve always thought of “home” as where my parents live.  Home was Tucson when I went away to college and now that I live in Chicago, home is in Atlanta.  There is always something special about coming home that gives me those warm and fuzzy feelings.

I suppose my concept of home was something that was fostered when I was growing up.  My family is from Louisiana but my Dad moved us out to Tucson when I was one.  To my parents, home was where their parents were.  It’s funny the impressions that I have from those summer trips back “home” (Louisiana).  There was always something distinctive in the smell of Meme’s home, or the aroma of Mam-ma’s cooking that just felt…like home. 

There is one particular impression that I have accumulated over the years from those trips to Louisiana.  This impression is one that gives me the feeling of comfort and security – it’s a feeling that is hard to describe – but when I feel that feeling I know I’m home.  The first time I can distinctly remember this feeling I was seven.  I was sleeping on the floor of my Grandpa’s office, a room just of the main living room that had a French door and a huge roll-top desk.  I was with my cousin Lloyd and it was morning time.  The house was just beginning to wake up and my grandmother (Mam-ma) and my Mom were in the kitchen making coffee and starting to get breakfast ready.  They were talking just loud enough for me to hear them but not loud enough to hear what they were saying.  I was warm and cozy and their voices, spoken in soft tones, just made me feel happy.  Happy to be there, happy to know that Mom was near by, happy to see my grandparents…just happy.  That is my “coming home” feeling. 

I don’t get that feeling much any more, which makes me sad.  And I didn’t get it on this trip either.  But something else happened that provided proof that I was “home” – the smell of the air.  It reminded me of Louisiana and with the stifling heat and sound of the bugs going…well, it was just like I was a kid going to Mam-ma’s house.  I know I’ve been home this week.  And it was good.

Life has been a little busy for the last few days and I have not had an opportunity to pick up again on the SSMO.  With the Ravelrylmpics starting in 2 days it looks as if the SSMO is going to have to wait a few weeks.

Peanut is doing great.  Even in the last few days she has really changed and is beginning to focus her eyes some and really look around.  Flutterby is trying to be a good big sister.  She wants to hold the peanut and to feed her.  She just doesn’t have the “gentle” thing down yet, but she will soon.

Kris, my sister, enrolled the Flutterby in a dance class for this year.  It is a tap/ballet combination class.  She’ll even have a recital in June…can’t wait to see that one.  We took her yesterday to get her pink tights and pink leotard and pint ballet slippers (notice the trend?) and her black tap shoes.  Let’s just say that the dance store was a little bit of a sensory overload for her.  Even amidst the distractions she did good and we were able to get out of there in about 2 hours, which is a record, I think.

Then we went to the pool in Mom and Dad’s subdivision.  I am so glad that she is not afraid of the water.  She was standing on the edge and jumping into my arms just like a pro.  She still doesn’t get the blowing bubbles thing but I suppose that a few more times of getting water up her nose might cure her of that.

Oh, my watch just beeped…time to go rinse the color from my hair.  I’ll be returning to Chicago a new blond.  No grey – whoopee!

****Edited at 10:18 PM to add:
The hair color turned out great.  I am now a “Champagne Blond” instead of the “dirty blond” that I’ve been sporting.  Put on your sunglasses…here I come!

I can imagine back before the invention of the thing called the “telephone” that people would just drop by unannounced.  I mean, how could they know you were home unless they just stopped by?  Things have really changed since then and yet some people just don’t use the technology.  Take for instance my Mom.  I was sitting in my sister’s livingroom knitting happily away on the SSMO when all of a sudden my Mom is at the front door.  Honestly, if the door had been unlocked she would have walked right in on me.  Phone?  Never occurred to her.  Luckily my sister keeps the door locked so I was able to toss the SSMO in a bag and get it out of sight, but really, Mom.  Phone ahead.  Please.  (This is one of the reasons that I maintain you can’t live too close to family.  I love my family dearly, please don’t misunderstand me.  But a distance of more than, say, 10 miles, cuts down on the “oh, I just thought I would drop by…” kind of thing.  If I could only get them to use the phone, that would be a different story.)

I ended up with only 5 hours of sleep Thursday night.  I got up bright and early to call the airline and find out where my luggage was.  The conversation went like this:

Me:  I was on flight #____ last night.  My flight was late by 2 hours and when I got up to the baggage claim area I didn’t see my flight listed on the leader board and consequently didn’t get my luggage.

Them:  Well, your luggage was on the flight with you, why didn’t you pick it up at carousel #5?

Me: I just told you that when I got up to the baggage claim I went to carousel #5 but my flight was not listed and my luggage was not there.  I walked around for 2 hours trying to inquire about where it could be – I rang the bell at your ticket counter and no one was there.  What was I supposed to do?

Them:  But your baggage was on carousel #5 until 12:55, when I personally took it off.  Why didn’t you pick it up?

(this continued for a few more minutes…)

Me:  Okay, look.  I was up there at 12:30 and I honestly did NOT see my luggage anywhere.  Really.  I looked, I walked around, and I looked some more.   Let’s just move on.  Where is my luggage now and how can I get it back.

Them:  Well because your luggage was on your flight with you it is your responsibility to claim it.  This means that you have to come to the airport and pick it up.  You should have just picked it up last night.

…..

So the moral of this story is that after midnight I go blind.  This is rather a good thing to know about myself for the next time that I should ever be out and about and needing my brain after midnight.  This is the only explanation.  I must add one addendum, though.  This airline flies into Concourse D in Atlanta.  When I got off the flight and went to the bathroom it was 12:08 AM.  I know because I called my Mom at that precise time.  Having found out that they were just leaving home and that they would be at least45 minutes, I decided to walk.  Walking is good.  It is healthy and relatively enjoyable.  In fact I walked 6000 yards from Concourse D to the baggage claim area and it took me only 25 minutes (they have some moving sidewalks to help).  Now I can’t honestly imagine that my luggage made it up to the baggage claim area and everyone picked it up within 25 minutes and the flight then disappeared from the leader board within that time.  That is totally unimaginable to me.  So I return to the only explanation: I go blind after midnight.

But I spent some quality bonding time with my Dad on the drive to and from the airport.  In fact, I discovered something new about my Dad.  He is NOT good at the airport drive-by pick up.  Never ask him to pick you up at the airport.  He gets confused with arrivals (people flying into the airport) and with departures (people flying out of the airport).  He thinks that departures are those people who have just come (via plane) and now want to depart (via car).  Conversely he thinks that arrivals are those people who are just getting to the airport (via car) who then want to get onto a plane.  Vary good information to have about one’s father, don’t you think?

So I am finally in Atlanta but I have yet to meet my niece.  It is almost 9 AM here and I’ve only slept for 5 hours (if even that) because my flight was late (storms in Atl.) and then my luggage never appeared.  What do you call luggage that never appears if it is a whole plane full?  The flight never showed up on the leader board and of course there were no representatives there because they don’t have a big presence in Atlanta so the service desk closed at 11:30PM (it was almost 3 AM before we left the airport).  No one to file a lost baggage claim, no one to speak to… I did call customer support and they transferred me to an answering machine, upon which I left a message with a call back number.  No call yet.

The upside to all of this is, of course, the fact that I’m in Atlanta and just moments away from meeting Gabby and seeing Olivia (thankfully they won’t care what I look like or smell like…).  Apparently Olivia can’t wait to see me again.  She is in the “possessive” stage of development so I am “her Tia” (Tia = aunt in spanish).  She told my Mom yesterday that “her Tia” is going to make her one purple and one pink puppy today (not sure how I’m going to do that…) and when they went out to dinner last night she saved a seat for “her Tia”.  Oh how I love kids!