Last Night of Vacation

We've been gone nearly a month now, and tomorrow morning we'll head back to the airport and take flight back across the Atlantic Ocean toward home. There will be many hours in the air, eight time zones crossed, and a few hours and customs to pass through in Washington D.C. before the final flight to Colorado.

So much has happened this month, it will take many posts to share it all. The first step, once we return home, will be to download my camera of all the priceless photos I've taken. I'm grateful for the digital camera we have, since I already know we have beautiful images to share, and I'll do some slide shows that capture the best of our memories—I hope.

Our first week with the kids and grandkids was wonderful, and then John and I left for Paris together. It surpassed any expectations I had. I can honestly say it was one of the more remarkable cities I've visited, and I didn't feel hampered by my ignorance of the language. People treated us beautifully. I did learn to say "Good day, do you speak English?" in French, which probably helped quite a bit. Most people did, at least enough for our needs. I can hardly wait to share our visit to Paris with you all.

Shortly after our return to The Netherlands, we all boarded a jet together and flew to Stockholm, Sweden. Ben put his back out just before we left, so he was in a considerable amount of pain. It made getting baggage and children from place to place a little crazy. That's part of the Sweden story, but it's just a side bar to several days that were great despite Ben's pain and rainy weather.

We took a cruise from there, and the story will continue with tales of Estonia and St. Petersburg, Russia. What an amazing city that was! You'll see by the photos. We walked our legs off, but there was so much to see that it was worth it.

Our day at sea would seem to have been a time when the camera might not be used, but my photos that day were wonderful as well, from the grandchildren, to photos of the fiords we were passing through, and capped off by a spectacular sunset. It was heavenly.

We returned for another couple of days in Stockholm, where we got the news that my step father of 30 years had been transfered to a Hospice Home for his final days. I knew we wouldn't be able to make it back to my Mom before he passed away, and it saddened me. We waited and prayed as we continued on, flying back to Amsterdam on the 20th, four days before Papa John passed away.

So it's been a long month, and we'll be taking another trip to California to see Mom after we get home. The memorial service is being delayed so family can gather. It'll be on the 16th of September. Hopefully our jet lag and laundry will be memories by the time we pull out of the driveway to head out there. And I'll have at least one or two cities posted. Tomorrow is for flying. Tonight is for sleeping. Goodnight, Moon.

Are We There Yet?

As difficult as this trip has been, there have been bright spots of joy blended into the mix. I'll begin with those, then explain the current predicament and when we plan to return home.

We've spent time with our youngest son, his beautiful wife and their children—our grandchildren. I got real giggles from Aiden when I called him a "cheap date" at the frozen yogurt store. We met up there for an evening treat. Grandpa decided to buy for everyone, but Aiden is only four months old. He didn't get any. He was happily watching everyone enjoying their choices when I told him he was a cheap date, and he must have thought that was the funniest thing I had ever said. Laughing babies are such a blessing. Granddaughters enjoying frozen desserts are, as well.

It was more fun with a cold delicious bowl than I ever remember having before. By the way, I chose banana with miniature Reece's Cups on the top. From my point of view, it was perfect. We went from there to Target, where we walked around and the girls got to pick out their new backpacks and lunch boxes. They both wanted the same ones, so Ruth is going to have fun making sure each girl gets the right bag and box when it's time to leave home. Maybe she'll put names on them. Disney Princess bags and Tinkerbell lunch boxes won the competition in both little hearts.

Yesterday morning the local theatre had a free showing of How to Train Your Dragon. Neither of the girls had ever been to a show in public before, although they watch movies at home with the family. They did beautifully. John and I joined them, and Ben bought a huge bag of popcorn to share. It was a movie John and I had seen before, but it was much more fun with the girls. I was amazed at just how respectful and quiet they were. Kate isn't three yet. Ashley is just four. I figured their first trip to the movies would entail some hushed whispering about behavior. It never needed to happen.

Some memories are worth more than gold. Near the end of the movie, when things were getting really exciting, Kate reached up and kissed my cheek. I looked over and she smiled at me. I held out my arms and she climbed on my lap for the last ten or so minutes of the film. It reminds me of that wonderful old hymn... "Precious memories, how they linger. How they ever flood my soul."

These moments have kept us sane. We return to the home where my mom is dealing with deterioration and dementia. My step father is not doing well. It appears he has had new small strokes that effect his balance, and he can no longer walk properly. He keeps falling and wants no one to help but her. She can no longer leave the house. He won't cooperate with anyone else. He barely eats. Doesn't want the walker. Refused assistance from the nurses (2) and physical therapist who have come to the house to help Mom.

It's been a nightmare for her, and an exercise in frustration and patience for us. We can keep her grocery list filled. I can change her bandage twice a day while she heals from her surgery. I make sure she's not spending her energy on cooking or clean-up. I can lend an ear and a shoulder to lean on. What needs most to be done is beyond me. I cannot make her see the need for him to be in a care facility. I can't show her how emotionally fragile she's become without upsetting her more.

Big brother to the rescue. We'll leave for home Sunday after church. Pat and his wife will arrive Sunday afternoon. Already I know we've stayed beyond what is wise. I run out of my medications five doses before arriving home. It's the seizure medication that worries me most. I'll call my neurologist today and see if he can phone in a small prescription to get us home. The blessing, all problems aside, is knowing Pat & Betty will be here to support Mom. You can get a clear image of them. Think salt of the earth.

We can head for home knowing Mom won't be left alone to make impossible decisions.

A Day at the Beach

I honestly cannot remember the last time I spent on the beach before today. Whenever it was, I guarantee it wasn't nearly as much fun. There's something magical about grandchildren. Sharing anything with them enhances the experience, bringing it up a level.

My perfect day at the beach before would probably include sitting in the parking lot listening to the waves and watching them roll in. I don't like sand. It makes walking painful and difficult, and gets in any crevice available. I do, however, love the sound the ocean makes as it breaks along the shore.

My iPod has a few different CDs burned onto it that help me enjoy the sounds without the sand, even without leaving Colorado. One has the beach sounds during a storm. You hear the waves as a storm comes in, with rain and then thunder added to the pulsing of the ocean. It's a super nature CD. I have a few others that just have the sound of waves, or waves and seagulls, whales, or whatever sea life is within microphone range.

None of them bring me quite the same level of contentment as ocean sounds and grandchildren, though. There's something quite unique about the sound of a child's laughter coming in with the tide. I love watching their sturdy legs running along the edge of the foamy waves, daring them to douse their legs as they race.

Kites fly overhead. Babies sleep beneath the shelter of makeshift awnings. The newest of those belongs to me—grandchild number three from son number three. Surfers paddle in mediocre waves, proving this is California, while Kate pauses to rest and accidentally falls asleep in the sand, a smile on her not quite three year old face. Cousins come and peek at her and whisper "be quiet" in voices I can't believe she sleeps through. Her good mama pulls a towel over her so she won't sunburn. It's a sweet scene.

Watching my tall son, a father three times over, patiently and with great pleasure dig a huge hole in the sand to fit several children was more fun than digging it myself. Duh. All the children love Ben and Ruth. I can see why. They're fun. And when a couple of the older cousins dug a trench around the side and collapsed their hole (with them still in it) no one got upset. It was that kind of day. Maybe I do like the beach after all.

Ben's 1st Trip to the Dentist

My daughter-in-law films and blogs the funny things their children do as they happen. Thirty years ago we didn't have digital cameras and an internet, with social media so handy for sharing the highlights of our little comedians' days. I'm still pulling up memories to record here, for the future amusement of our grandchildren. I hope they enjoy this one when they learn to read.

Anyone who knows Ben today would assume correctly that he's always been bright and inquisitive. He has an eye for detail and a question for everyone. His first trip to the dentist was no exception. We took him to a special children's dentist with a great reputation for building rapport with kids. Since my experiences with military dentists left me with a lifelong fear of being in that chair, I wanted my children to give this dentist a try.

I don't remember his name, but I'll never forget the hour he spent with my son. He sat him in the chair and took his photo with a Polaroid camera, then allowed Benjamin to pin it to the bulletin board. Once back in the seat, Ben was presented with a tray of tools to examine. The good dentist explained each tool, and how he was going to use it. He had me standing just out of sight in the doorway, where Ben couldn't use me as a safety net, I was told, but I would feel secure in his well being.

As the fairly long litany of tools and their uses came to a close, the dentist leaned over and said to Ben, "Now, do you have any questions?"

"Yes," Ben said very seriously. "Who made God?"

There was a short period of silence and then the dentist said, "I mean about your teeth or what I'm going to do." Ben said he didn't, and then the dentist came out to talk to me for a minute, leaving Ben with his laughing assistant.

"Why did he ask me that? I've never had anyone ask me something not related to teeth before!" He wasn't quite angry, but obviously frustrated. I honestly didn't know, so I suggested he ask Ben. He didn't. Maybe he was afraid of him—I'm not sure.

When Ben came out, quite content with his first visit to the dentist, I asked him myself. "I wonder about who made God, and he said I could ask a question."

Children expect us to know whatever they don't for a long time. They ask so many questions. The really smart ones can be a terrifying responsibility. That day I laughed while he couldn't see me, then I tried to answer him. I think today I might suggest we google it.

I was surprised to find, when I called for his next checkup, that the dentist had unexpectedly retired. I've wondered through the years if the Ben's visit could have pushed him closer to his decision. No, I don't suppose so...

All Packed Up and Places To Go

Springtime in the Rockies is never my first choice for leaving home. We are, however all packed up and more or less ready to leave in the morning.

Nature bid us goodbye with a rollicking thunderstorm today. Everything stopped while I listened to the pounding rain as the storm crossed the lake and passed over the house. Hail came down for awhile adding its clattering music while daylight hid behind the clouds. An hour later it was gone and the sun was again shining on my budding iris plants. I pray they'll wait to flower until our return. I hope the deer hold off on having their little spotted babies until then, too. The fawns are usually running all around our acre by now.

We had already been to town for my Critique Group meeting, and it went very well indeed. It's a fine group of six—a fairly new group, still getting to know each other. We write everything form fantasy to Westerns. Each one is a serious writer, which makes the group meetings lively and intense while still being helpful and friendly. They're all supportive of my adventure tomorrow as I go to pitch my novel at a mini conference near Denver.

Yes, I'm excited. I'm much calmer than I was three weeks ago. Much more prepared. John will have the utility trailer hitched behind us when we arrive at the conference, since we'll head across the Rockies as soon as it ends. We won't see home for almost three weeks. Tomorrow night we'll stay with my brother and his wife, and spend Sunday with them as well. It will be good to get in a good visit with them.

Monday morning we'll head to the Las Vegas area, and Tuesday we'll arrive in California. We take it a lot slower when we pull the trailer. Don't expect regular blogs while we're on the road. We'll be staying with my ninety year old mom. She doesn't believe in the internet. It's alright, though. She says the internet doesn't believe in her, either.

We're coming, Mama. I can hardly wait to see you.

Taking Little Kids to the Cemetery

For some reason I recently remembered when our three sons were small, and we drove from our old home in Ventura County, California, to the San Fernando Mission Cemetery where my dad is buried. (Daddy died at the start of my Junior year in high school.)

That day we brought along little spades and things for the kids, aged about 1, 4, and 8, to help as we pulled weeds and cleaned up around the headstone a bit. Of course we stopped and bought flowers before we arrived, and talked to the boys about where we were going, and why.

Ben, the youngest, was oblivious to anything but playing with the water and dirt. Tighe, as oldest, was fairly familiar with the routine. We didn't get to the cemetery too often, but he had heard stories about the grandpa who was buried there. He had come out with us more often than either of his brothers. He knew we would always leave flowers and a flag. My daddy had been military to his bones.

Jeremy was finally old enough to pay attention on this trip, though, and for the first time he questioned me.

"That's my grandpa under there?"

"Yes, Son."

More weeds were pulled as he thought about the concept. Jeremy was often serious and quiet.

"Is he going to grow again?"

"No, Honey."

He looked at me with one of those befuddled looks only a child can give a really dumb parent.

"Then why did you plant him?"

There are a few questions a parent just can't stop laughing long enough to answer.

Plans Are Good

It's said that life is what happens while you're making other plans. I suppose that's why people buy trip insurance. Sounds like a good idea to me. Seems like forever since I actually got around to my blog. It's been nearly four months, and that's definitely too long. I'll begin by saying there's no excuse. Then I'll give you no excuses, but tell you what I've been doing.

I've been writing. Remember my novel? I decided it was high time I got busy re-writing the entire thing and getting it ready to offer up for publication. Is it ready? Nope. But I'm taking some editing classes and business for writers classes. Tomorrow I have a class on copyright law—just an hour at the Northern Colorado Writer's Studio. We'll all bring lunch and listen to some really important information. It's so great to be surrounded by professionals. Then on Friday I'll be back at the studio for my Critique Group. I just got word from one of my critique partners that he thought this week's submission was my best yet. They're all helping me work through some of the rough spots on the novel.

Now I'm pushing backward for a couple of weeks, trying again to be satisfied with the first chapter (I'm not) because I'll be pitching said novel to an editor on May 21st. As I told some of my email buddies, pitching is such a great word for it. My stomach has already started.

The next day we'll take off for California to visit my mom. We'll stop on the other side of the Rockies to visit my brother Pat and his wife Betty on our way there, then stay overnight in Henderson, outside Las Vegas. Before we leave California to return home, and it'll be a fairly quick trip altogether, we'll make a run up to San Francisco to see Tighe, our oldest son. Our return trip will take us through Salt Lake City to see Stacey and Ryan, friends who deserved a visit in December and didn't get one. I was an emotional mess then and was afraid to meet their baby son. Sorry, Sully. I'm much better now.

We need to be home by June 9th or 10th, since I believe I'm singing in church again on the 12th. I should double check that on Sunday, shouldn't I...

Then we'll be running back to California for a flying trip in July to meet our newest grandson, Aiden and see our beautiful granddaughters, Kate and Ashley. It's hard to see them so seldom, but so special when we do get together. They're flying out for their annual leave, timed for her family reunion, so part of the time there they'll be unavailable to us. That being the case, we'll only be with them a short time, but it won't be a problem since we'll be seeing them again shortly after that.

We'll return home only until August, when we'll have a grand celebration of our 35th anniversary. Like I tell John—ten wonderful years! (And he's starting to understand my sense of humor.) We'll go to The Netherlands, Sweden, Estonia and St. Petersburg, Russia. Sounds beyond wonderful to me... Time to start looking at travel blogs again.

Am I ever glad we spent thirteen weeks going to Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace Institute classes at our church! We're in better financial shape for taking a trip like this than we've ever been. Ever. And I may never see London or Paris, but I've never chosen the best traveled path in my life. Why should I start now? Thanks, Ben, for wanting such an interesting adventure. I can hardly wait. And yes, I did buy the trip insurance...

Making Pottery Gifts with Elisha

Elisha's first day of maternity leave was yesterday, and we enjoyed it together while Jeremy was at work and John made his way through his "Daddy Do" list.

Actually, John did amazingly well, installing security lights, extra door locks, changing furnace filters and light bulbs on really high ceilings. Then he managed to change a vehicle light bulb that the service stations were going to charge the kids an hour of labor to "figure out," because their car is a Prius, and nobody knows how to work on them. They opened the compartment to change the bulb during an oil change and said the bulbs couldn't be reached. Oh, yeah. The mighty John figured it out and had it done in ten minutes.

Elisha took me to her favorite gift-making place. It's called Arts on Fire, and is a pottery shop here in Shreveport, where you paint the unfired pottery and then they fire it for you. Of course, it looks very dull and bland before it's fired, so it's hard to tell what color you're really painting, but she said that you get used to that. I think I still prefer plaster craft, which is basically the same thing, but it's done on pre-fired pottery where what you see is what you get.

Still, we had a great day. Elisha picked a gift for my mom's 90th birthday next month, and I painted a piggy bank for their baby. I wish I had thought to take more photos of the pig once I had finished painting it, but I forgot. It looks pretty boring the way it is now, but I added some little animal stencils and JTH, the baby's initials. He'll be the third JTH, by the way, following John Thomas and Jeremy Thomas. I love the name Jeremiah True.

I actually tried to talk John into Jeremiah when Jeremy was born, but John preferred the name Jeremy, and now I'm glad he did, since my first grandson will get the name I've always loved so much.

It was a wonderful day, full of painting and laughing. The owner is an interesting woman named Quincy. She gives just the right amount of help—whatever you need without telling you how she thinks it should be done. She's warm and friendly and handled the table full of pre-teen giggling girls having their first-time painting experience with only one mom to watch them with such ease I thought she'd been doing it for years.

Elisha filled me in. Quincy had never painted before, when the shop owner decided to sell out. One of her twin daughters loved to paint there, so she and her husband decided to buy the place. And that's how history is written, I guess. Our children introduce us to the some of the best paths in our lives.

Shreveport is having a Blues and Jazz Festival today, and we're going to try to get to that, as long as Elisha is feeling up to it. She's still sleeping right now, since with only 3-4 days left until the baby's delivery date, she's up and down all night visiting the euphemism down the hall. As all good babies know, it's important to find mama's bladder and rest there as soon as she gets to sleep. (Thanks for that, Jeremiah True... You're getting her prepared for the ups and downs of nighttime feedings.)

Climbing the Walls in Dubrovnik, Croatia

Benjamin probably said it best. "We would never have chosen Dubrovnik, Croatia, except that it was on the ship's tour schedule. Missing it would have been a real loss." Or something like that. I took far more photos there than anywhere else. It was astoundingly beautiful, and the clouds that day were phenomenal. If I had painted them in, I would be getting complaints that they were too beautiful to be real. My slide show is longer than usual, but I cut it down twice already, and I'm not going to slice away any more photos.

John and I kept smiling at each other that day. It was hotter than it had been, but there was a bit of a breeze to keep us comfortable. I was enjoying the beauty of the day, the orange roofs and small alleys we could see as we looked down from the walls that surround the town. Of course, we had to climb long flights of stairs up to the walls first, but once up there, we had long stretches that were fairly straight. We looked down on yards with hanging laundry, flowers, churches, musicians, and (of course) lots of tourists.

We passed canon and craftsmen, including a man in costume making coins the old fashioned way: with a huge hammer from blanks in a very old machine that contained the reverse artwork that would be pounded into the blank with two or three strikes of the mallet. John collects that type of coin, as well as the souvenir pennies from various interesting spots we (or the kids) visit, so we had him make one for us.

This is one spot that I didn't buy a single post card. If you take a look at the photo above, I think you can get a pretty clear idea why I didn't. With digital cameras, it's easy to see what you're getting. I knew I had post cards in my camera already if I needed them. All I needed to do was print them out. Another thing I appreciated about Croatia was their music. It's another good reason for having a long slide show. I got to use two songs.

Again, the statuary and buildings were beautiful and attention to detail is amazing. It was obvious that "We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto," as the saying goes. History, once again, was all around us. This is another one of those spots that we were getting to taste, when a full meal would have gone down really easily—maybe a week of full meals...

As we left Croatia to tender back to the ship, I realized that we would be leaving the cruise the next day, back in Venice. Our vacation, and the time with Ben and Ruth, Ashley and Kate was coming to an end. But what a way to finish it!

An Evening at Mykonos, Greece

The same day we left Santorini, we enjoyed short naps, had a light meal, and then caught the tender boats about 5:30 p.m. to Mykonos. We were still in Greece for this one more stop. It was delightful.

Still very light out, we were able to get some great photos of the ship in the harbor, the city as we approached, and the people wandering the small tourist shops along the waterfront. Then we disembarked and joined the throng. It was the slowest paced spot along our itinerary, and had a sweetness to it as night fell.

Most of the time we stuck together, walking and exploring, going into small churches and shops, chatting and just enjoying the evening together. As evening fell, however, we eventually split up. John and I wandered into a music store, finding some Greek music (you've been listening to it if you've been watching the slide shows) and a few presents for Ruth and the grandkids. I spent some time saying "thou shalt not covet" over lyres and lutes and Greek instruments I'd never seen before. It was a great stop.

We returned to the harbor and took the tender back to the ship just as full dark was falling. I loved the windmills along the shore, and the way the cruise ships looked resting out at sea. Still, I was aware that we had the next day at sea, then one stop at Dubrovnik, Croatia, followed by our return to Venice the following day. Our cruise was winding down. Reliving it by putting together the slide shows and blogs has been pure pleasure. Thanks for sharing these memories with me. Here is our Mykonos, as we saw it on May 5, 2010.

Santorini, Greece Was Unforgetable

If you have ever been to Santorini, Greece, you'll never see a photograph of the place without immediately knowing where it was taken. The place is just that striking. From a distance, I was amazed to see snow-capped mountains in the distance. As the ship pulled into the harbor, I realized that the snow on the mountains was, in actuality, white-washed buildings—not snow at all.

We arrived at the gathering station on board the ship early to take the tender boat ashore. Ben, Ruth and the girls, John and I all boarded the small boat and then a bus to travel along winding roads up to Oia Village.

We wandered and had a great time until it was time to get back on the bus and go to Thera or Fira, depending on who is spelling it, Greek or America, and had another fine time there, seeing so many beautiful sites I was instantly in love with Greece. I'm really happy with this slide show. I hope you don't think it's too long. (And I love the music!) The funny little man you'll see with John in one of the photos wanted me to take his photo with the "big man" and then, after I took the picture, he wanted me to give him money. I pretended not to understand him.

I think Benjamin and Ruth and I were passing the cameras back and forth quite a bit that day, taking photos of each other so that we'd all have pictures of each other on all the cameras with the beautiful scenery. The one above is one of my favorites, since it commemorates Kate learning to scream. She never did it for long, and seemed really proud of herself, even though it never got her anything. Still, I guess she was expressing herself. Ruth never screamed back, either. Neither did Ben, come to think of it. Grandma and Grandpa tried to hide their grins. I hope we succeeded. We really didn't want to encourage her, but it sure was funny.

I've never seen anything like Santorini. I didn't even think to wonder, while we were there, if they have earthquakes there or not. I found out that in 1956 they had a major earthquake along with a volcanic eruption (great combination) that caused such devastation that many of the villages on Santorini Island were deserted. Now, thanks to the tourism and wine industries, the island is once again prosperous.

I was so amazed at the beauty of this place, and how it all managed to cling to the cliffs like this. We stopped for photos so many times that I got a lot of rest stops, which made it a fairly easy day for me. At least that's how I remember it now. Still, by the end of the day, there was no way I was walking down all the steps like Ruth and Ben did. We stood in line and waited for the cable car. Now, that was a trip...

...but we made it safely. The people in the car with us really laughed when the car swayed wildly at first when we got in, and I made the sign of the cross in reaction, though. Couldn't hurt.

Exploring Corfu, Greece

If you've seen the James Bond movie "For Your Eyes Only," then you've seen the island of Corfu, Greece. That's where it was filmed. It's a lush green, set among the crystal blue Mediterranean waters that are so clear you can see the bottom of the cove.

Our morning started, as my slideshow does, waking up before dawn and taking my camera on deck to take photos of the sunrise. Then I trotted down a level and walked to the stern of the ship as it got lighter. Enjoying my first cup of (definitely not American) coffee, I waited for the sun to glisten off the wake of the ship and finally captured the beautiful colors left by the path our ship, the Costa Victoria, as it cut through the sea. I could easily get mesmerized watching that.

Ben took a photo of John and me at the temple on the hill we climbed. I thought I'd put it here, as if there were no stairs at all, but we did have to do some climbing to get there. Still, it was an easier day than most for us. Ben climbed higher than any of the rest of us. In fact, he did it twice. At one point, while we were still all together, there was a tunnel. He reset his fancy camera, a digital SLR, for the lower light levels, and forgot to reset it to the regular light when he left the tunnel. Then he proceeded to climb up to the top of an additional hill that none of the rest of us had the energy to climb.

When he came down and realized what had happened, he asked whether or not he should go back up and retake his photos. I said that if he didn't, he'd probably regret it forever. I know I'm still sorry that I couldn't retake all the photos I took on our Alaskan cruise in 1991. It was in the pre-digital days, and I paid over $200 to process my film only to find out it was all very gray, low-contrast. I was so disappointed... Off he went with Ashley in the backpack, and it didn't take him all that long, it seemed to me. He's young and strong.

The stairs we climbed were enough for me that day. We really had an easy day, though, since we had taken a shuttle bus from the port to the city center, and then walked over to some archeological ruins and decided to pay the small fee to explore them. I was surprised how few people took advantage of that, especially once we got inside. Of course there was climbing involved inside, but not nearly as much as on other days, especially since we didn't go up all the way to the top like Ben did.

The area we saw was phenomenal, though, and we knew the next day would be arduous, since it was to be Athens on the new schedule. Originally we were slated to see Athens on Wednesday, but the cruise line had found out that there was a scheduled labor protest on that day, so they re-routed the ship and had us arriving a day early. I was determined to make it up to the Acropolis under my own steam, so having a slower day on Corfu was great.

And yet we saw and enjoyed so much! I hope the tree gives perspective to the massive size of these buildings. If you think we didn't do any climbing, realize that I'm taking the photo looking down on it, and we did start at the bottom. But by now you'd probably prefer to just see the slide show, and if you need more information, there's Wikipedia, or you can ask questions in the comment area and I'll come back and answer them. I don't want to write a book here. (Not yet, anyway!)

Ancona, Italy from the Costa Victoria

Maybe if I do a blog every other day, I can relate this magnificent trip of ours without overwhelming anyone—including me. I'm still very tired, and find myself wanting to be asleep at strange times, and wanting to be awake in the middle of the night. I'm slowly getting back to normal, though, and I pray I'll be able to stay awake during church tomorrow. Tonight I want to recount the many steps we climbed in Ancona, Italy. It was our first port after boarding the Costa Victoria, the cruise ship that was to be our home for the next week.

What a grand home it was. John and I were on the twelfth floor, one of the few cabins up there, and one of only a couple of small cabins nestled among the suites. Ben and Ruth were tucked into an outside cabin with Kate and Ashley on the eighth floor. We were on opposite sides and ends of the ship as well, so it was somewhat of a hike to get to each others' cabins, but once we learned the layout of the ship it was no problem.

Some of the photos show the many steps we climbed to get to the top of Ancona. Yes, I climbed them all. That has, along with all the climbing we did in the other cities, I'm sure, contributed to the flare up of the plantar fasciitis I'm being treated for, but some things you know are going to hurt before you do them, and you weigh the merit. Will this be worth it? Yes or no. Then you decide whether or not to go for it. I have no regrets. My memories outweigh all the pain and recuperation I'm needing, even if my physical therapist might be a little frustrated with me.

As we pulled into port, I took a few photos of the city coming into view, and realized it was built more like San Francisco, with the waterfront leading up to the interesting things on the hills. Here, however, the stairways were stone steps leading straight up, and the railings were often intermittent. Ben and Ruth led the way, with John looking very strong behind them while I brought up the rear—determined and relentless, I suppose, with plenty of stops to take pictures.

It was a wonderful day, and I guess I wasn't altogether sure I'd make it all the way to the top at one point. There was a beautiful church at the top, and incredible panoramas of the village below, with the cruise ship sitting at anchor in the harbor. It was a little overcast, but the weather was mild. If it had been hot, I'm sure I would have given out. I don't do heat gracefully, and I consider anything over 79° as punishment. ("What have I done this time, God?")

I remember suggesting to Ashley at one point that she walk and I ride in her back pack, and she thought that was pretty funny. She told me I was too big. Those kids were great. The one way Kate would usually be willing to hold my hand, for example, when she really wanted to run on ahead, was if I told her, "Don't lose Grandma!" Then she'd run back and grab my hand. They were so much fun!

So here's my slide show of Ancona. It was a great day, but they all were.

International Mother's Day

Oh, this is going to be short—

We woke up this fine Mother's Day in Venice, Italy. It was 4:00 a.m. What a wonderful morning it was for a race across a couple of canal bridges pulling suitcases to the bus stop. Now actually, I pulled a little one while Ben and John did most of the work and Ruth managed the girls. I did a little shepherding, but not much. At quarter to five, which is when we left the Hotel, little ones prefer their mamas.

We took the bus to the airport, and flew back to Amsterdam for the final two days of our incredible trip. I'm just overwhelmed at how wonderful every single day has been. We've loved the places we've seen, and traveling with these special family members made each place more special.

I promised myself I'd never be the kind of grandmother who boasted that her grandchildren were the nicest, the cutest, or the smartest. I've just spent nearly three weeks with them. I'm not boasting. I can't help how they turned out. The credit goes to their fine parents.

You'll get a real blog by Wednesday night, with photos… They'll come in stages, of course, or you'd never watch a slide show with 2000 photos on it!

Keukenhof, The "Kitchen Garden" of The Netherlands

On Saturday morning we traveled a half hour by car to Keukenhof, to enjoy a day walking through the "kitchen gardens" of The Netherlands. That's what Keukenhof translates to mean, and all I can say is that they can boast the biggest, most perfect and without a doubt most fragrant blooms I've ever seen. From beginning to end, it was a wonderful day. It ended with Ben pulling up their copy of Ironman on Apple TV. I really didn't think I wanted to watch it, so I got my clothes together for church, then wandered down to say goodnight and got sucked in. Good movie, by the way. Very good movie.

Words won't do the day justice, but then they rarely will when it comes to travel and family fun. This time I started by creating a slide show, just so I'd know if it worked or not. To begin with, it worked. Ben came home and showed me how to make it automatic, though, so once you click on it, you no longer have to tell it to start from the page that opened. (When he does it, you click on the link and it just opens and starts. Now mine does, too.)

Two days are already gone, and they've been

wonderful. Our Sunday was filled with church, food, and bedtime routines for the girls. Then the adults sat together and played Clue. What fun that was! I think I've got the game nearly figured out, at least if you don't expect me to have an actual strategy. I want a rematch.

As for this blog, I'll go ahead and post it now and tweak it later. That way I'll have more time for having fun…

Ashley graduates from Joy School tonight, so I imagine there will be more photos in a day or two. Tomorrow is, after all, another day, and the fun has just begun.

Happy in Holland

I actually did get a couple of hours sleep on Thursday night. There was a fabulous thunder storm that I needed to enjoy first. It finally tapered off sometime after midnight. I was in the shower at 2:30 a.m. John wanted the 3 a.m. slot, so I cleared out for him and woke him up just before the alarm would have gone off. We were ready to fly into Amsterdam, The Netherlands.

Our neighbor drove us to the shuttle (thanks, Doug). The shuttle was really punctual and arrived early at the airport. The day continued with nothing of any significance going wrong. I will say that the quality difference between Continental and Delta's food served is staggering. Our August and September 2009 flights on Continental were highlighted by the food. We were amazed at how really good it was. We'd never really had airline food that you could brag about before.

Well, Delta obviously doesn't care. At least I can say honestly that it was served by a very nice woman who didn't seem to be getting any thanks at all from the passengers. I made sure to tell her that we really appreciated getting food. We did. Even though it wasn't great, we were very hungry. Remember the adage, "Hunger is the best sauce?" John and I had a lot of "sauce" on our food.

Being here with Ben & Ruth, Ashley and Kate is wonderful. The smiles and giggles are so endearing. It really tickles me to see how excited somebody can get to see us. (The little ones got excited, too!) More tomorrow, and hopefully with photos. We're going to see the tulips in the morning.

The Wedding Trip

While we had a wonderful Christmas here with Pat & Betty, there was more than plenty of drama for our son Jeremy and Elisa as they left Shreveport, Louisiana with Tighe, our oldest son and their best man. They pulled out around 3 p.m. Central time and hit traffic immediately, being Christmas Eve. They were heading for Las Vegas for the Little Chapel of the West, where Elisha's parents and all the guests are waiting to see them get married on Dec. 27th.

Jeremy said it seemed to take forever to reach Dallas, but when they arrived, they hit a wall of traffic. I'll correct this later if I'm way off the mark, but I believe it took them four hours to get through Dallas. Then things got really bad. The next morning they called from just outside Witchita Falls, where all the roads were closed due to weather related traffic accidents. They were sitting, doing nothing, and couldn't proceed in any direction. At that point it had taken them about nineteen hours to make a seven hour drive. Not good.

They finally got rolling and everything looked good. He called last night and said, "Mom, are you sitting down?" He sounded shaken, and I pictured crumpled fenders, the car in a ditch and an ambulance pulling away. Never ask your mother that question when she can't see if there's blood. Just spill the news. It's far less painless. The car overheated and broke down in New Mexico. Because it's a Prius, hybrid, only the dealership can "turn it back on" to see what's wrong, so even if it's just a hose, it's going to cost them several hundred dollars. (I feel a soap box moment coming on, but I'll save it for another day.)

Of course dealership is all the way in Albuquerque, 150 miles away. The tow truck can't pick them up until 7 a.m. That means a hotel had to be rented—very expensive in Santa Rosa. And once they get there, if the car can be fixed quickly, they still have a nine hour drive before the wedding. The wedding is tomorrow, so there's still a chance...

We'll be heading out to Las Vegas ourselves at 7:30 this morning, and keeping the faith for the best. We'll be praying, of course, and staying by the cell phones—thank goodness for technology! At least they're not out looking for a payphone...

Heading Out

There's a storm heading in across our route that's supposed to last three days, so we're heading out a couple days early. My brother Pat and his wife Betty advised us to keep an eye on the weather and be flexible, so I don't need to feel guilty—just rushed. It's not like I didn't see this coming. I've been watching the weather forecast change for the last week. It just didn't change in the direction that would give me an extra day to do laundry and pack.

Today I managed a run to the grocery store, to do the laundry, wrap all the gifts (for Christmas, Tighe's birthday, plus Jeremy and Elisha's wedding), and make another double batch of pecan tarts. I've got everything fairly well packed, and now I've just got the shrimp dip to make and the cooler to pack. My cameras, cell phone and headphones are charged. I know I'm forgetting something, but I don't know what it is. This always happens to me.

The final thing I want to say is thank you to my sister Ellen. We used to get together to bake Christmas goodies. Now that we live so far away, I have to do it by myself—with her recipes. They're all my favorites. It makes me miss you so much more than usual, Ellen. They are tradition, taste and memory blended together. I made enough to share with everyone who stops by for the wedding. (But if I never roll out another tiny little tart... well, until next time.) Recipe to follow soon.

Arriving in Amsterdam on Kate's Birthday

The timing of our trip was perfect. We landed in Amsterdam the morning of our youngest granddaughter Kate's first birthday. Two of our suitcases carried gifts. Some were Christmas and birthday presents from us for their family, which sure saved us a bundle on postage costs. There were also things they can't get where they live, like Cheerios and Graham Crackers, clearly things children can't live without. Other things were ordered by Ben and Ruth from US stores to be delivered to our home and brought over by us.

I'll admit to worrying, since we had less than an hour to change planes in Houston. What if we missed the flight? Most of Kate's birthday presents were coming with us! Ben reassured me that we would have plenty of time, and that things would work out the way they should. If we were late, we'd deal with it, he told me. However, it wasn't a problem, as we made it with minutes to spare.

The photos tell the story: a little girl, too darling for a grandmother's words to explain, enjoying the thrill of realizing she can actually rip off the paper by herself.

The joy of finding a book inside that's not only bright and colorful, but strong enough to chew without destroying.

Proud daddy taking photos...

...while big sister lends a hand.

And there's a new sweater from Grandma (of course).

Mommy beams her approval and offers encouragement...

...and then cake.

The pleasure of watching Kate's first sugar rush was the best way to start a holiday abroad.

The Power and the Glory

Tonight a thunderstorm is flashing around the heavens, crashing amid the rain, the crown on a spectacular day. For some reason, weather like this always makes me think of the Biblical expression "the power and the glory." It's like an expression of God's might to me. We're all aware, or should be, that weather can be violent and dangerous. From the comfort and safety of home, though, it's beautiful beyond belief.

Some wonderful things happened today. My cousin Joe and his wife Wendy were here from Wisconsin. This is my Aunt Cookie's oldest son, and we shared bison chili and memories, sat outside and breathed in the beautiful 82 degree weather. It was a fine day, made all the sweeter by their rare visit.

When the day had ended, and promises made to other friends necessitated their departure, we piled into the car together. As we drove past the house next to ours, we passed several does and a few young bucks. There, tucked into their midst were the two baby fawns, curled up by their mama for a rest. All is well in Bambi's thicket.

I love a Hollywood ending.