Magnetic force or red beacon?

Do you think these idiots graduated primary school and will understand if I yell Shut the $&@k up? We apparently have joined the party train to God knows where. Libby and I were destined for Edinburgh. In London, six 20 something beefed-up over grown boys joined our carriage for the trip north. The only saving grace among them was that one looked like DariusRucker-but even that didn't last more than a couple of hours. They were loud, obnoxious, drinking, lost, bored...boys. The entire carriage was quiet, except for these large watch wearing, over-sized biceped, short-statured, big-mouthed, champagne drinking, over-grown teens; whom just happened to sit right behind me, beside me, and in front of me.

 I was ever so thankful when they got off a mere three hours into our four hour journey.  However, a Hen party took their exact seats at the exact station. (A hen party is a bachelorette party.)  I must have some magically magnetic force for obnoxiously loud people to be drawn to me-or a red beacon pops out of the top of my head drawing them near. Just as icing on the top of this poop cake, the gentleman in front of us went to get his travel bag down from the overhead luggage rack and pulled Libby's clarinet case down on my head.  I needed to survive this train trip without Police involvement and it was proving to be a challenge.

It had been a quiet day Thursday in Paris.  Initially, I was concerned about spending the day alone.  The idea of walking around in a big city--any big city--is an anxiety provoking event.  The idea of being alone in Paris for two days did not have me anxious to get there.  In the end, Libby spent the day with me on Wednesday-at least the second half of the day.  The morning I spent getting to her for the concert her Uni band was giving in the Paris park.

 But Paris had other plans for us.  It was cool and misty in the morning.  The student led band opted to cancel the performance-I'm sure they wanted to have free-time more than they wanted to give the concert in the rain soaked park.  But I had come to Paris, and in fact had re arranged my plans to reach Paris in time, for the concert.  I was disappointed.  When Libby and I were able to communicate once we both had wifi again, we discovered I was at her hostel and she was only blocks from my hotel-on opposite ends of Paris.  C'est la vie.  We arranged to meet a friend of hers studying economics in Paris, at Musee D'Orsay and finished the afternoon with Van Gogh.  Musee D'Orsay is wonderful.

Later in the evening Libby and I ended up, in the rain, by Norte Dame.  This is by far my favorite area of Paris.  I love the book sellers.  The rain, though, ensured that they weren't open.  I was crest-fallen but there was still tomorrow.  Norte Dame in the evening is beautiful.  It doesn't matter if it is raining or not.  It is beautiful. After a prix fix three course dinner with Norte Dame as the backdrop, Libby went back to her hostel and I went back to my hotel.  I was worn out and intended to sleep well. 

If you've even glanced at a map of Paris, you'll know that it is not built on a grid system.  It is built on a system of snail trails or something else as arbitrary. So, before setting out on our respective journeys we looked at our rain sodden map to plot our path. Needless to say, I zagged when I should have zigged, crossed the street to the wrong side, found the back of a church (also known as a homeless mans shelter), and ended up coming up on my hotel from the opposite direction than my plan.  But I made it. 

The next morning, I awoke to not just a gray drizzle drab day but, as Libby said, it was "chucking it down."  It was simply POURING buckets.  And it was cold. It was the kind of cold that seeps into your bones and stays for days. But I was going to conquer the "alone in Paris" day, even if it was a horrible dreary day.  So I set off with a plan. 1) go to Ste. Chapelle and 2) go to Musee D' Orangerie. I got nearly to Ste Chapelle when I stopped for coffee.  It was just too cold to go any further without reinforcement and sustenance. 

The line to Ste. Chapelle is usually quite long.  I was hopeful that is would be somewhat shorter because it was raining, or "chucking it."  It was an hour of standing in line, which is somewhat shorter than normal.  But also perfectly timed, because the building closes from 1-2:15 but doesn't throw anyone out.  So I got in just before it closed for the mid day break and at some points had the budding mostly to myself.  

Ste. Chapelle was built by Saint Louis (then King Louis IX) to house the Christian relics of the Passion of Christ, including the crown of thorns, which made the King very powerful. The Ste. Chapelle was built in 1242 and it took just 7 years. It includes 1113 stained glass windows that depict stories from the Old and New Testament.

It was connected initially to the Palais de la Cité (City Palace) which now serves as the Supreme Court building or Palace of Justice.  The King eventually moved to the Louvre and Versailles, but Ste. Chapelle and the conciergerie (prison) remained. During the French Revolution, many people were detained, tried and convicted at the conciergerie including Marie Antoinette. 

When I left the conciergerie it was still chucking it, so I walked back to my hotel, hung my desperately wet everything in the bathroom to dry and climbed into bed to warm up and nap, as one can only do on a soaking Parisian day. The Musee D' Orangerie will have to wait until the next visit.  The thing I wanted to see was the Monet water lilies and they had just been in Kansas City, so the rest can wait. 

Now, we are in Edinburgh and I have seen the sun. I have also had tea and gin.

Both of these make me a much more pleasant traveler.  We are staying on the Royal Mile which sits at the top of a rather dubiously high hill. This made reaching our flat from the train station an exercise similar to climbing Mount Everest. With a suitcase.  

Once installed in our flat, it is a very nice location, close to everything. Today we walked around the city, shopping in the grass market which has small boutique shops of Scottish made items and artisan foods, stopped by the old book sellers where I found two adorable books printed in the early 1900's, and on to Prince's street which is the "rodeo drive" of Edinburgh.  

We saw Edinburgh castle from multiple vantage points as it sits at the top of the Royal Mile, and on the way home we stopped at St. Giles church.  

It was a full day, and I managed to trip only four or five times but never to fall!  And no Police were involved in my travels-so far. 

History, give or take a little...

I woke in the very fancy English townhome known as Pulteney House.  It is literally a "Town Home."  A home in town.  The wealthy would have country estates and a home in town.  I stayed "downstairs."  If you are a Downton fan, you'd know immediately that this would be the servants area.  My room was likely a sleeping room or possibly a larger work room as it was just inside the side entrance-not up the grand staircase in the foyer.  Today, it is a nice bedroom with an en suite.  If you ever get to Bath I highly recommend Pulteney house. They also serve a very lovely breakfast. 

I'm not sure what it is about me and rain, but once again as I started to set out on foot for the city, it started to rain cats and dogs.  I waited the bloody storm out (a mere 10 minutes) and walked to town in clear, but brisk skies. The rest of the morning was regal in Bath.  Bath was first "founded" by the Romans who harnessed the natural warm spring waters, but the spring was later lost to disrepair and flooding and only rediscovered 150 years ago or so.  Unfortunately, I ran out of time to take the tour of the actual Bath as the queue was astonishingly long. The waters from the springs have long been said to cure anything and even impregnanted a queen with a male child-hence the Queens bath.  Unfortunately, that King and queen were later over-thrown. 

However, I did get to go to Bath Abbey. There have been three religious buildings on the sight of Bath Abbey; a Saxon monastery, a Norman church ,  and the present day Abbey.  The first King of England was crowned in Bath Abbey in 973 AD. 

The current building was started in 1499 but stood as a carcass until the reign of Queen Elizabeth (the first, not the current one) who provided the money to finish the building but declared that Bath could have only one parish (it had five at the time) and that it would be called Bath Abbey. The building itself is a  beautiful upright Gothic style and has 52 stained glass windows-reportedly, one for each day of the week. I was able to go into the Abbey early for morning prayer.  

That also allowed me to snap a few pictures before the hoards of people came through.  You can also climb to the top of the top of the Abbey tower but in the Intermintent downpours and the 212 steps, I opted to take the Mayor's walking tour instead. 

The walking tour took 2 and a quarter hours and I got the majority of my Fitbit goal accomplished in that time.  I also saw pretty much everything in the city and learned a lot of interesting, although not necessarily true, "history."  The city, was once fortified by an encompassing wall. The whole of the city was remarkably small-you could walk the outside wall in 12 minutes.  The Abbey sits off to the side, and there is a kings bath in the drawing but the guide spoke of the Queens baths nearby-which I never could quite figure out if they were an off-shoot or a different spring from the Roman baths.  

Much later, in Victorian times, Jane Austen frequented Bath and parts of the city show up in her stories.  I have to admit I haven't read much of them, but none the less it was a fun bit of trivial history to learn. We also learned about Victorian manners, dinner protocol and well-other issues such as the "necessary houses", chamber pots, and the Victorian version of the honey wagon. I sh*t you, not! 

Bath has the fifth highest housing costs in GB, and the houses in this little did day-called the circus (don't know why-it's just a giant round about) range from £4.6 MM to government subsidized. Interestingly, they are all listed as historically significant, having been around for a long time and designed by a famous architect.  Yet, some are government subsidized housing-which is a bit like section 8 housing but without the social stigma, I am told.  The homes vary, of course, inside-the more expensive one had an indoor pool and 7 bathrooms while (whilst-if your British) the smaller was a two bed room, one bath and sadly-no pool.  

The other famous landmark of Bath is the bridge that was built with private funds and included shops on the bridge.  It's highlighted in all the literature, but really didn't seem to be a highlight of the tour.  It's a pretty bridge none the less and with all the rain the area has had, the river was flooding its banks.  

And with that, the afternoon had snuck up on me so I retrieved my luggage back at Pulteney house, and just as I was leaving-can you guess?  YES!  It rained again!  When I return home, you may want to consider building an ark.  It seems I have magical powers or I will be having a dream soon that encourages me to take in animals two at a time.  

Much to my amazement, I made it from Bath to Paddington on the Great Western Train, from Paddington to Edgewater on the circle line to change to the Hammersmith &City line to St Pancreas to get on the Eurostar with plenty of time to Spare.  I'm still pinching myself and waiting to find out I boarded the wrong train altogether and have ended up in Florence instead of Paris. However, look at the loo in the Eurostar!  It's so funny!  It's a Crapper!   

Make way, we're heading out!

Today Libby showed me around her campus and it was so very pretty.  Although there has been a university on the site for a very long time, the majority of the buildings were built after 1950.  It sits atop a hill and is a compact university setting.  I saw this sign on campus, and she claims it's pronounced /ZEY-brah/.  I secretly think they have stripped animals on campus. 

After our campus tour, she made us a delicious lunch of bangers and mash, which is sausage, mashed potatoes, peas, and an onion brown gravy and it s delicious!  She's a great cook!  Can't wait for her to come home and cook for me. 

Then she needed to get ready to head off with the University band to go to Paris to busk in the street, visit Disneyland Paris, and do whatever it is university band kids do.  After a brief practice, they were going to meet at the Impe (/imp-y/) pub before riding a coach and ferry to overnight to Paris. The Impe is the neat this pub she took me to for the fish and chips on my first night in the most clever old home.  This room is called the Orangerie. 

This meant I was on my own once again.  I headed off to the train station in an absolute driving rainstorm, which ceased as soon as I hit the station.  I got my tickets from the self serve kiosk but the trains don't have a number associated with them like flights, so you need to know the end destination of the train.  I always forget this, and so had to ask.  I lugged my now giant suitcase-oh, wait!  There's another story.  On the way TO Libby, my little pink suitcase handle started to lose the screws and the arms of the telescoping handle got very wobbly.  I intended to duct tape the handle together and even got the supplies and gave it a go.  In the end, it didn't seem like it was going to hold through three more train juries and two flights so I dashed up to the department store and bought new luggage-yay!  And because Libby had asked me to bring home about the equivalent of another carry one suitcase, I bought a bigger one. I can still lift it though-for now. 

I did manage to get myself to Bath through shear luck, seriously. Only narrowly not missing my connecting train by being completely clueless.  Then, got to my accommodations in the darkening late evening.  The train ride was lovely-although this part of the country has had a LOT of rain!

Tomorrow, I will explore Bath for a bit and then venture to London and take the Eurostar to Paris...if all goes according to plan.  

Death, Earls, Cider & Daniel Craig-a pretty good day, I'd say!

Today's goal was to avoid death. Yes, it was a lofty goal, but one I thought, with hard work and disciplined focus, I could achieve.  Let me remind you that in the UK they drive on the "other" side of the roadway.  (Previously, I said the wrong side but I was corrected to say the other side because it was much less offensive...) now, I am not driving in the UK, but I am walking about in the cathedral city of Exeter. [Tangent here, so skip to the end of the bracket if you'd like: Apparently, it is quite a distinction to be a City, and a cathedral can be one of the things that can be shown that makes the area worthy of the distinction that can only be granted by the reigning monarch.  In fact, in the UK there are only 69 cities as of 2014 (thank you Wikipedia)].  Since Exeter has been around, oh,I don't know, for 2016 years--give or take a couple of decades--the streets are a bit narrow.  The cars literally stir the air next to you as they pass by.  And they are coming from the direction opposite than I am expecting so I pretty much spent most of the day being startled by the car coming out of "nowhere."  Thankfully, the innate genetic reflexive "mama seatbelt"--you know, the straight arm swinging out horizontally barring further forward movement of the neighboring person--is alive and well in Libby.  She saved my life several times-and we found Depends disposable underwear on offer, so the rest of the trip should be without further embarrassment. (Just kidding!) 

This morning we had a lovely brunch date with a Kansas City native now living in Exeter who has been a big help to my big Jayhawk birdie. She and her fabulous husband have made sure that Libby did not fall off the face of the UK, helped get bedding and other necessities, and today she even drove us to Powderham Castle utilizing the "other" side of the road. It was a little surreal--like having a self driving car--so I kept one eye closed. 

Her lovely husband, an Englishman, gave me a proper goodbye saying Cherrio when we parted ways.  I felt I was in a Colin Firth movie, and I kept waiting for Daniel Craig to show up in a tux. (As long as I'm dreaming, I'll dream big!)

There was no lightening and no thunder, but we did have a proper rainstorm with actual drops of rain as opposed to the drizzle and fog that is more customary of English weather.  Of course, Libby and I both left our umbrellas at the flat, so we made due with our jacket hoods.  Earlier, weather.com had warned of a "wind disruption," which made me giggle.  I'm not entirely sure what that means, but I do know that had we remembered our umbrellas they likely would have ended up in the rubbish bin anyhow.  

The raindrops blew across the estate of Powderham Castle is great sheets. It was actually a sight to see, and thankfully we saw it while on tour in the inside.  It is quite a lovely Castle, and older than the USA!  So let that sink in for just a bit. It's been in the same family for 28 generations and the Courtenay family still lives in about a third of the building. The property came into the family in 1325 and the castle was begun in 1361.

It has secret doors and passage ways but unfortunately, I was not allowed to take pictures inside. But they have a Facebook page, so have a look there. 

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Powderham-Castle

The estate sits next to a deer sanctuary, but the smart animals were taking cover somewhere out of the rain so we did not see them and did not go looking for them. But here is a web photo I found of the little cuties.

It was a fun tour, complete with family gossip!  

To return to Exeter we road a double decker bus; it was very fun and very British! That big bus on those narrow streets was a carnival ride-or as close as I'd like to get to one for a good long while. After that excitement, we stopped by the Old Firehouse for a bit of resuscitating--and cider.  (The Old Farmhouse is a local pub-and for Harry Potter fans, is said to be the inspiration for the Leaky Cauldron.)  Devon (the county in which Exeter is situated) is known for its cider, so Libby had a sweet one and I had a dry one...and neither had bubbles. They were much different than the cider in the states and I liked it better.

My beloved Jayhawks play tonight, however, it will be at 2:30 am my time (which is 30 minutes after day light savings time begins here tonight-not sure what that will do to the jet lag as I am struggling to stay up until 8 or 9 again tonight.) I will be cheering them on though, in my dreams and my KU Tshirt! RCJH all the way from Exeter, England and with my big Jayhawk birdie! 

Met the Big Birdie!

Because of the time change, it really feels like I've spent all day Thursday and all day Friday traveling and waiting. I've seen four airports, three train stations and a least 13 million people.   And Dumbledore driving a boat as the Great Western Rail train taking me to Exeter passed over the river...I'm sure that my lack of sleep and intake of healthy nutrients did not make me imagine that long white beard and large pointy hat on the old man behind the captains wheel. 

The Icelandair flight was quite nice, aside from the loud American who thought it was humorous to loudly say "what?" in increasing volume several times each hour to wake his family, and the rest of the plane. So, I am a bit more tired than I had hoped to be. Upon arrival for my layover in Rekyivek, I had thought I'd get coffee but I opted for water and yogurt just to tide me over in hopes that I could get some sleep on the flight to London.  I found a nice quiet corner of the small airport just to be still and peaceful since my body thought it was 1:30 am. Until four of the loudest (not Americans) humans came and sat right in my space and continued to holler and to laugh and lounge about-at 6:30 AM Icelandic time!!!  I got up and left my previously quiet corner.  I was in no mood to listen to the holler family.  I found a new place next to a sleeping couple-that was more my speed. Soon enough there was a mob of people in the terminal with no real order- and no chairs either.  When they called our boarding, it was a bit like cows being called to feed.  A mad push toward the gate.  Much to my surprise, we walked outside and up the gateway stairs into the plane.  It was a touch windy and cold! 

 Iceland is an amazing place to see the northern lights, and Icelandair replicates that on its planes above the baggage hold with the magic of LED lights.  Awwww, science.  I also had an empty middle seat so I could stretch out a bit. I zonked out on that flight as it was finally quiet.  I made it into, through, and out of Heathrow in lightening speed.  So fast in fact, that I was able to catch an earlier train out of Paddington to Exeter.  Paddington was a mad house.  I forgot it was Easter weekend.  The train, although earlier than the one I had originally planned, was running late and when it was finally announced it was another mad dash to the platform.  It's all a bit confusing if you are not familiar with it.  I had bought a supersaver ticket which is good only at certain times of the day, and did not have a reserved seat--like GA at the baseball stadium.  

But, the first car I got on had all these little tickets sticking up from the seats which Libby had told me meant they were reserved seats.  Of course, I didn't see the tickets until I had slung my suitcase up on the luggage rack at the car entry, dropped my drink, and my purse, and gathered everything back up to turn around to see those damn tickets sticking up.  So, I sheepishly turned around, already having apologized for holding up the line and said "I believe I'm in the wrong car because all of these..." And was interrupted by a stuffy uppity British man in a Kelly green blazer with light yellow pin stripes.  He loudly said, " do you think we could pass by already?"  I finished my sentence apologizing that I would have to get off because these were reserved seats, and I did not have a reserved ticket.  Turns out, neither did old Mr. Crotchety. So here we both are in the lowly peasant rail car. Ha! 

After passing sheep, horse, swan, kayakers, farm land, scrap metal processing yards, beautiful steepled churches, a plethora of chimney adorned roofs that would make Mary Poppins proud, and through some absolutely movie worthy train stations, I arrived at Exeter St David's a little worse for wear but oh so giddy to see my happy healthy beaming big Jayhawk birdie! 

I had a quick shower, met two of her flat mates and took a whirlwind walking tour of the town of Exeter-all on about four hours of sleep. My lovely Jayhawk birdie took me out to a proper pub for Good Friday fish and chips to fill my reserves for tomorrow.  She has big plans for us, so I am told.

 As I sign off for tonight, it's right at quitting time in the USA and  9 pm in merry old England.  For this old bird, it's bed time.  I think I've earned this sleep.  

Wait, wait, wait! No sleep 'till (Exeter!)

Two days ago the world gasped in horror when the terrorist bombed the transportation hubs of Brussels.  I found out about it when I started my day in my normal course--by checking Facebook.  The pictures were horrifying, but the reality was a sucker punch in the gut for me.  Libby is studying abroad in England and I was due to set off on an 18 day adventure to visit her on Thursday.  Today is Thursday and I've made it on the first leg of my journey--Kansas City to Boston, non-stop on Southwest. In 24 hours, if all goes as planned, I will be squeezing my girly Easter bunny.

Yes, I am going.  Yes, I think I will be fine.  The odds are ever in my favor.  Seriously.  I was more likely to be harmed driving to the airport in Kansas City than to be the victim of a terrorist attack during my European travels.  And I keep reminding myself of that, because yes, I am frightened.  But I've never been one to shy away from a challenge.  As most who know me will attest, the moment someone tells me it's not possible to do something, I'm going to find a way to do it. I'm not an adrenaline junky.  I don't take unnecessary risks.  I take calculated cautious risks that should result in a beneficial payoff.  Is this trip a risk? Yes.  But it's no more of a risk than I'm willing to take to see my oldest birdie at a university she loves on an adventure of a lifetime and make lifelong memories with her with a very high probability that I will return to my nest to see and be with my boy birdies for the spring and summer.  And with all of us for as long as the good Lord is willing. 

So, what's the plan, Nan?  Well, let me tell you!  After organizing the house sitter, the dog sitter, the cat sitter, stopping the mail, the milk, and making sure that the bills were all paid up while I was gone, I picked up the house-for the most part-and caught a ride with my mom to kci.  Yesterday it was 75 or so degrees-until it wasn't.  This morning it snowed.  It was absolutely imperative that I get to Boston because that is officially the start of the international itinerary. So the weather has been on my mind a LOT.  But I am typing this blog entry on board the plane to Boston much to my relief. 

To get to Europe, I found a $775 ticket on Icelandair that got me to London, flies me out of Glasgow Scotland and into Rekyevek  for a five day "layover" before returning to Boston.  If I booked it out of KCI, I had to fly first to Seattle, then back to London-uh, No!  Besides being $400 more expensive it was also 10 hours more in a plane.  Flying out of Denver was an option I considered, but I was worried about the weather when I booked back in Feb and I'm so glad I didn't chose Denver because there was a huge whiteout blizzard that shut the airport down!  So, I got myself to Boston on an 11:30 am Southwest flight with a free ticket (BONUS!).  The only down side is that I have a six hour layover in Boston.  If the weather were better, I would consider going into the city, but I'm not tempting fate.  I will be making do with people watching and eating.  

The next leg is the start of the Icelandair flights.  It leaves Boston at 9:30pm-just as the Jayhawks are playing unfortunately.  But don't worry-I have my red sweater, blue coat, and Jayhawks gems on! I'm hoping the plane has wifi, I can stream it, and it doesn't go into overtime because I'll need some sleep. 

 

The flight will land in Rekyivek at 6:30 am (1:30 am central) and I have another hour and a half layover. I will try to start adjusting to the time difference then with a stiff cup of coffee and breakfast.  Then it is a two and a half hour flight to London, landing at 11:30 local time ( 10:30 am Iceland time-I think, and 5:30 am central time-I think.) 

From London Heathrow, I'll take an express train into London city center to a large station called Paddington (like the bear) where I have a bit of a wait-probably an hour-to catch the 2 pm local time (8 am central-I think) train to Exeter where I should arrive at 4:30pm local time (10:30 am central).  For those keeping track-I needed to arrive at KCI an hour before my 11:30 am flight which meant I left my house at 9:45 am central.  I will literally travel for 24 hours with choppy bits of sleep in four different time zones.  

Once I arrive, we will celebrate good Friday with traditional fish and chips...and an early bedtime for mama Bird! 

The Pathway to Vacation

Wanderlust is a defining part of myself. And because of the insatiable need to see the beauty in our world, I travel.  My travels are typically packed with new activities, beautiful sights, and delicious tastes.  I rarely go somewhere twice.  I typically go during an off season.  I have a distaste for crowds and even more so for tourists.

So how did I find myself back in Myrtle Beach South Carolina during Spring Break when flights are expensive and packed?  I was lured in by peer pressure.  I wanted to give my kids what other parents had given to theirs...the Spring Break Trip.  And I was running out of time. The oldest is in college, the middle is a senior in high school, and the youngest is in primary school-this could possibly be the last time all the Spring Breaks aligned on the calendar! 

I had been to Myrtle Beach several years previous during early October for a golf vacation and had enjoyed myself. We had amazing food, even better golf, and relaxed with a beer and a book.  This sounded like just what we (I) needed.

 The middle changed my plan when he wanted to go on a mission trip with his classmates.  I can forgive this because, after all, this IS his senior year and he's beginning his own journey into adulthood. Its a time in his life that he will look back upon and forever remember the good, the bad, and the ludicrous. The middle substituted helping in soup kitchens, pantries, and other charitable organizations for the slow pace of the beach vacation I envisioned.  I was disappointed not to spend time with him in these dwindling months that he will be tethered to home (and me), but I am very proud of him for his giving spirit. 

I gathered up the remaining of my charges as vacation began after assuring the middle had arrived safely at the airport at 5:30 am-and it quickly became evident that I had gained a responsibility for my mom and my aunt who were also traveling with us.  My mom is a planner-much like me.  But she is also a brooder-something I am not. Mom began asking me almost two weeks in advance what I was going to pack.  At the time, all I knew was "clothes."  This did not satisfy her need to plan.  Eventually (read as the night I packed), I sent her a list and a picture of my intended clothes. Vacation went very much in this path-with me designated as the activity director. 

My aunt, Mary, also went with us on vacation.  She is only a few years older than I am and the bonus baby my Gran and Gramps were blessed to have later in life.  Mary has intellectual and physical disabilities and now lives with my mom.  Mary has taught me many lessons over the years and she was full of them while on vacation. She was so excited to go on Spring Break-it was all she could talk about!  Her nieces and nephews and their children took vacation during Spring Break-to Disney, to baseball spring training, to warm beaches-and now she, too, was going.  It was her excitement and joy at being one of the "in crowd" that made me realize just how frustrated she must be at times by all she wants to do and cannot. 

Mary thrives in structure and predictability, and of course this is the antithesis of vacation.  I was worried about how well and how quickly she would adapt.  Frankly, its something we all struggle with in varying degrees and I think it is why vacations can bring out the "least" in people.  To my surprise and amazement, she adapted to any new twist or turn with relative ease.  She spent time on the beach, she tried new foods, she walked miles, and she enjoyed it all!  It's hard to travel; its harder when you are one of five traveling together. Mary's ability to adapt and her flexibility was a lesson to all of us.

Her greatest joy though was not the sights, the smells, or the sounds of vacation.  The biggest smiles and her most enjoyable moments were the ones she spent just being "with" us.  She was happy to be walk around Adalaya with Libby, to explore the gardens in Charleston with my mom, to watch the basketball games with me, to eat at the Hard Rock Cafe with John.  She honestly and truly enjoyed being with her family.  In that respect, she is just like my Gran. 

She deeply misses my Gran.  I know we all do, but Mary lived with Gran for more than 50 years.  Mary's day to day life was tied to being with my Gran.  While we were on vacation, Mary talked about how her mom would like some activity we were doing; or how her mom sang, too, while cooking; or even when it was time to get up, Mary would say that her mom would have told her to "get going." Mary wanted to share this new adventure with her mom.  She was proud of going on vacation and she felt her mom would be proud of her too.  

And Gran would have been amazed at Mary's resilience and determination! Walking around for miles and encountering strange new places can be difficult and exhausting.  While moving at a slower pace, Mary did everything the group did.  She ate at new places (although almost always ordering a hamburger), she rode in a horse carriage, she walked on the beach looking for shells, she shopped (something she doesn't really enjoy), she toured a historic building, she played games with us, she participated in activities at the resort with us and she even made jokes that made us laugh. 

Since my Gran died and several of my friends have lost parents, I realize I am lucky to still have my mom with me.  Oh yes, she does drive me bananas at times but I think that is part of the job description.  I must drive my own children crazy with my own quirky behavior.  My mom turned more than "29" this year.  Most people find it hard to believe she's "over 29" because she is on the go, active, involved, still working and physically strong.  But I see that she is slowing down. I know she is even more worried at times than is healthy for her.  She needs to talk to me more frequently than ever before. My mom has gone on vacation with us in the past and I hope she will continue to do so, because it is during these times that we can spend some quality time getting to know each other again.  Our lives are so busy, so diverse, and carry so much responsibility that we both strive to make it through the day, week or month in one piece with all the boxes checked.

On vacation and in life, Mary taught me to slow down and enjoy the time with family.  Its not so much about seeing everything or being in the mix of something new, its more about taking the time to talk, to play-to truly enjoy the other person.  Its about being able to adapt to new situations, compromising, and enjoying the sweetness that relationships with family__crazy ones and normal ones__offer to us.  Mary's journey may take a slightly different path than my own, but our desire to be part of the "in crowd," be with family, and enjoy life's blessing is the same at its core.