I'm HOME

Isn't "home" a wonderful word? It's so warm and cozy and homey. One of the fantastic things about being "back home" is the implied absence from there. Trips are amazing things, so I'm going to tell you about mine. I'm going to go through it day by day. No worries, I'm not really expecting you to get through the whole thing -- this is almost more for me. It'll be something that I can come back to later and read. Eventually details will be blurry in my own imperfect memory. But the internet, it seems, never forgets.

Saturday:
At zero-dark-thirty on Saturday morning, we left for the airport. Airports are fascinating things. As well as slightly scary -- perhaps that adds to their fascination. After our plane landed in the "land of relatives," we were greeted by our grandfather, uncle, and lil' cousin. While the rest of us were absorbed in collecting luggage and doing some catching up with one another, the three year old's main joy was riding up and down the escalators. No real mishaps actually occurred. But some almost did. Three year olds are three year olds, what else can I say? The afternoon was spent lazily. We unpacked, got settled, and I did the hokey pokey. Thankfully, I only had to do it once. I guess my cousin decided it wasn't as thrilling as she had supposed, so she let me off the hook as far as that was concerned. But I did have to play with Barbies. We went to the Easter Vigil Mass at out aunt's parish. It was very nice, actually. They have a new pastor, who would be considered moderate in most circles, but in a very liberal area, he is though to be quite conservative. Unlike his predecessor, he did not change the Consecration, utter heresy from the pulpit, or have an intermission. Sighs of relief issued from all of my immediate family.

Sunday:
Easter Sunday, our grandmother made a spectacular dinner. There was roast beef done to a turn, pasta with homemade sauce, green beans with olive oil and garlic, french rolls, and a gigantic salad. And an ice cream cake from Baskin Robbins. We always get overfed while visiting our family. We really don't have any control over the amount of food we eat. Our grandparents make a ton of food and detest leftovers. So whatever amount you originally take is surely not going to be the final amount eaten. We had extra extended family over for the occasion. And for the number of people there, there was an absurd volume level.

Monday:
Monday was spent going hither and thither. The boys went off to an airfield restaurant and then to the aerospace museum down the road from it. The girls had some playtime with the three year old and one year old cousins and then went to another cousin's house for her birthday party. She, who turned 18, had a handful of her friends over and they were all eating pizza. When we invaded, the three year old sat at the table with all of the big kids. She looked entirely awestruck. But, despite the chaos, she ate almost her whole slice of pizza, without anyone bribing her. Then the big kids took off to play laser tag (my sis and I were invited to come, but neither of us were very inclined to do so) and my little cousins left for home and nap time. We chatted with the b-day girl's mom for a while, which was nice. After that, we went to my paternal grandmother's house and then took her to dinner. The place we went was just like Mexico. We were the only....well..."gringos" in sight. It was good food, though. After entirely too much food we went back to our grandmother's house and tried to worry down some cake she had made special for us. The cake did Mum in and she spent the entire evening buried under a blanket. The rest of us played a ridiculously complicated card game called "Phase 10" which my sis and grandma got really into. I really detest games, but I played anyway. I was not really paying attention after about an hour. But the game went on, and I only lost to my sis by a little bit. Some more cousins came at about 9:30 (yes, PM!) and I feel really guilty about what happened then. They sat and watched us play cards. Isn't that terrible? We couldn't really have a conversation, so they sat and talked to each other for the most part. It went against every bit of my sense of decorum, but it happened anyway.

Tuesday:
We had lunch with one of my mum's sisters and dinner with the other. (I just noticed that all of our visiting seems to revolve around food) For lunch we had a scrupulously healthy menu. Then we got dragged for a walk. I have weird ankles and knees, so I have to be extraordinarily careful about how and when I walk. I had determined, after doing a fairly sizable walk two days in a row, that I should take the day off. So all I brought were sandals that are terrible walking shoes. I thought I could be stubborn (like I normally am) and hold my ground about not going. I knew I would be miserable the rest of the day if I went, so I was fully intending to stay home. But there is no evading my aunt. I almost got physically pushed out the door. For almost a mile I walked in my sandals. And I got two really painful blisters on the tops of my feet. So I took off my shoes. Now, in my hometown, the sidewalks and streets are extraordinarily well kept. They're nice and smooth and easy to walk on. Well, that doesn't hold true up north. It was like walking on really sharp rocks for the next mile. So I had two gigantic blisters on the bottoms of my feet. The lesson learned, therefore, was that I either need to be better at saying "no" or I have to always bring walking shoes, whether I intend to walk or not. But dinner was more pleasant. We had a Jewish Seder meal. My uncle is Jewish, and even though Passover isn't until April this year, he consented to doing one anyway. Due to his small children, it was fairly abbreviated, but it was cool, nonetheless. And I had my first glass of wine. On an empty stomach. Baaaaaad idea. By the end of the meal, I was ready to fall asleep and I got a nasty headache about four hours later. I guess I should always refrain from drinking.

Wednesday:
Our last day of vacation. We spent lunch (yet another meal) with cousins on our dad's side. Three girls, aged 6, 4, and 2. Adorable girls. After the food part, we played a rambunctious game of hide-and-seek. The two smallest ones didn't quite get the concept. They would hide somewhere, to be sure, but then they'd shout really loud "Yooohoo, I'm over here!" over and over again. Hysterically funny. The girls were so cute. They'd say the funniest things, but without the slightest intention of being funny. My muscles got good exercise that day, trying too keep down unholy shrieks of laughter which would have offended them.

Nothing happened on Thursday that was of much consequence. We just came home. And, to quote from the "Madeline" books: That's all there is. There isn't anymore.