A Trip Within a Trip

I don’t mean to make our blog a travel log, but we have gotten to do some interesting things the past couple of weeks. (Internet access has been sparse, recently--so once again I find myself doing catch-up). Brian and I did take off solo to Cedar City, Utah. I was nervous about leaving the kids—not because I had reservations about the capability of my in-laws, but because this was the first time we’ve left Samantha and I wasn’t sure how she would handle it. However, as we got into the car and drove for about 5 minutes, we decided we needed an Arctic Circle shake (not something we get back east) and made a slight detour. The nervousness quickly dissipated as I realized how free I was—I could actually stop and get a milkshake in the middle of the day, which is something we wouldn't do with Ella in the car since she’d demand one, too.

After checking into our hotel, and dinner out together at a charming restaurant (The Garden House—if you’re ever in the area), we indulged in an evening nap and a trip to the hot tub. The next morning, we headed out to Cedar Breaks National Monument—a stunning landmark.

Given that we had a number of things we wanted to do that day, we chose to only do a 2-mile hike. We lucked out with it also being the peak season for wildflowers.

In several places along the trail were college students, working through the federally-funded Americorps program, manicuring and cutting back foliage. I wanted to ask one of them to take a picture of me and Brian with the stunning vista in the background, but Brian argued that it was inappropriate to ask an unpaid volunteer working on the trail to snap our picture. I disagree, and so left to our own devices, it resulted in this fantastic photograph:

As we were headed back to the hotel for a shower, we noticed this peculiar looking LDS church—our curiosity was piqued and we had to poke our heads in for the tour.

The church was built during the Depression, and therefore only local materials were available. This brilliant-colored rock was proposed for the church, giving it the name “The Old Rock Church”. The rock has apparently lost its luster over the years, but is still very vibrant. Church members built it themselves and the church is still in use, with two congregations using it. It was a unique and lovely—we were glad we stopped in.

And the real reason for our trip was to hit the Utah Shakespearean Festival. We saw Taming of the Shrew, which was incredibly well done. Being from the big city, we have always assumed that we have access to some of the best productions/talent in the country. However, we were pleasantly surprised with the talent and quality of the productions we have seen on this trip—they were superb. Neither Brian nor I had read that particular play and so were left a little perplexed about Shakespeare’s chauvinistic storyline—that through deprivation and proper training, a husband can make his wife submissive. We thought Shakespeare was rather liberated for his time, so maybe he intended this to be an allegory or simply just his sense of humor.

So we had a fabulous time, and not surprisingly, the kids did great in our absence. Thank you, Gary and Rhonda for making it possible! And wouldn’t you know it, Samantha who is now 11 months and wouldn’t crawl, started to crawl while we were gone. As we were driving back, I asked Brian whether he was ready to go back to being a parent. He replied that its “nice being away from them for a bit, but then you realize how much you miss having them around.” We really did relish our time away together, but we sure do feel incomplete without our girls.

Kickin' Back

Life in St. George rolls at a slower pace. Given how busy the last month has been for us, it has been a very welcome respite. We are staying with Brian's parents, and also enjoying the company of his brother and family. We arrived last Thursday and our days have been filled with visiting, playing with cousins, golfing, naps, card games, shopping, really good food, and playing in the water. Strong emphasis on playing in the water.

Sometimes, my mind slips back into DC mode and I momentarily miss the schedule and predictability of my days. But then when I remember the ringing phone, traffic, piles of boxes and endless errands, I grab my book and a Fresca and enjoy the moment. We truly have been spoiled--Saturday night, Brian's parents treated us to a night to see Les Miserables at Tuacahn, a beautiful performing arts venue outside of St. George. Tomorrow, Brian and I take off sans kids to hit the Utah Shakespearean Festival in Cedar City. Yeah, real life can wait a bit longer.

A Dual Birthday Celebration

As I mentioned before, I'm a bit behind on blogging. I'm sitting in St. George, Utah as I write this, as we have begun our month long Western summer extravaganza. Granted July 4th is now old news...but I took the pictures, have a partially composed post in my head, and so I can't let a good thing go to waste. The day was one big birthday celebration for us--4th of July festivities and my Grandma's 90th birthday.

I'd have to put the 4th up with one of my favorite holidays. It almost always turns out to be a fun day with minimal effort on our part. So this is how we celebrated: First, we got word that our neighborhood puts on a July 4th bike parade. So after getting dressed for the occasion, decorating Ella's bike and flags in hand, we treked to the starting point of the parade.
Kids literally came out of the woodwork--there were gobs of bikes, parents and strollers. A fire truck led the parade, with a couple hundred people trailing behind. Having that many inexperienced, young bike riders in a large procession is a bit kamikaze-like: They come out of nowhere, are fearless and they don't have a whole lot of regard for whose feet they run over.

We ended the parade with popsicles, climbing on the fire truck and a series of games you might see at an elementary school carnival--ring toss, bean bag toss, etc.

It really was a highly organized event and it gave us a better feel for the composition of our new neighborhood.

After unpacking a few boxes, we headed to my parents' for a cookout and birthday celebration for my Grandma. I provided the birthday cake--a classic carrot cake with cream cheese frosting--an all-American touch, I thought.

My Grandma moved in with my parents two years ago, and she has become so ingrained in our lives, I can't imagine not having her here. Although she often jokes (or not) about how she should no longer be on this earth, she has been my own personal lesson on endurance and endless service. After watching your spouse, all of your siblings and the majority of your peers pass on, how can you not help but feel left behind?

Like so many other WWII/Great Depression survivors, she has strength that most of us can only sit back and admire. She is a rock. Despite common ailments of old age, she is in relatively good health. Afraid that she will be a burden to those around her, she is not only productive, but a blessing. She works daily on genealogical name extraction for our church (requiring the use of a computer, a fairly complex computer program and e-mail). Although only an estimate, I would guess she has contributed to/made about 20 quilts in the last year: some of those hand-pieced and hand quilted. She does needlepoint, is an avid shopper (undoubtedly the best-dressed Grandma around) and even accompanies us on day-long outlet shopping trips, babysits my kids, packed my entire kitchen for me, scrubbed the kitchen and bathrooms of our house before we moved in, drives, makes and dips chocolates, sends birthday cards to all of her children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, and travels cross-country to see family members. My girls love her immensely. Samantha goes to her readily, anxious to grab her beautiful head of white hair. Ella is very close with her--they watch movies and read together, play Uno and can't part ways until they have a "hundred million squeezes." Really, what will we ever do without her?

Following our time in St. George, we head to Bear Lake in Idaho where our extended family is gathering for a reunion to wish her a Happy 90th Birthday. She is so excited and we recognize this is probably the last time the entire family will be together with her at once. It should be a great time.

And we finished the day off with fireworks at a nearby high school. We will gear up one year to take our kids to downtown DC, but 1) Brian and I have done it countless times and 2) I want my kids to be a little older to appreciate it. I'm not enduring the metro and the drunken masses when they're just as enchanted by the local high school fireworks.

Sadly, the 4th is one of the few times of the year when I ponder for any considerable length of time how fortunate we are to live in this country. At one point during the day, Ella asked me why July 4th was such a big deal. I launched into a grand speech about how we live in a free country and what exactly that means: We are free to worship God in any way we choose, we are free to say and write whatever we want, and we have certain protections simply by being citizens of this country. For these reasons, people flock to America, desperate for the quality of life we take for granted every day. And I have to say, I got rather passionate about all this--it took me by surprise, actually. For all its shortcomings, this truly is a country worth celebrating.

Bowcuts on the move...

It's been awhile since my last post. We are still here. I haven't given up blogging yet. We've just been a little pre-occupied. So let me catch up a bit.

We moved. And I will never move again. Call me a wimp, I don’t care. Some of my readers have made recent triumphant moves to California, Texas, Wisconsin, Michigan and even Korea! I don’t really hear you all complaining (except maybe for the very minimal complaints of my dear Korea friend, but you don’t really count—international moving is a beast of its own). I moved 8 miles away and it was horrible. Have you just done it more than I have? Perhaps you’re just stronger, more resilient than I am. I don’t do it gracefully. I don’t enjoy packing up everything I own only to turn around and unpack it days later. Here is a fairly recent picture of our living room, and I don't expect it to change any time in the immediate future.
At one point in my life, every one of my earthly belongings fit into my college automobile--my Chevy Celebrity (a classic set of wheels, I might add). Now, they barely fit into this massive moving truck.

I’m a little embarrassed that we own this much stuff. Once you own a house, there is this magnetic force that draws STUFF into every nook and cranny. Cleaning out the attic, the basement, every closet and cupboard, it just seemed endless. It is now my mission to curb the accumulation of stuff…for every new thing that enters, something old must leave. But I digress. Let’s get back to why this move was so horrible.

· Closing on the Silver Spring house. We had a bad combination of neurotic buyers in a slow real estate market. To make the deal go through, we had to eliminate a hornet’s nest from our shed, have our almost brand new furnace serviced, have a number of repairs done on a house in excellent condition (if I do say so, myself) and gently explain that the holes left in the walls from me taking the window treatments in my daughter’s bedroom were indeed reparable. Spackle and paint work wonders, people. Anyway, I spent a lot of time dealing with contractors and service men, while trying to pack with two little kids.

· Brian was sent to Idaho the week before we moved for another business trip. Enough said.

· My Mom, who is notoriously phenomenal with helping with big, life-changing, events/crises was away in China the week we moved. We were still recipients of lots of help from friends and family, but still, it would have been great to have her here.

· The closing on our Bethesda house was postponed several times due to various loose ends.

· The girls came down with horrible colds (the coughing, thick, nasty runny nose type)

· In addition to her cold, Samantha was teething and woke up almost hourly for several nights. The night before we moved we got about 3 hours of sleep.

· We stayed at my parents’ home while we were in between houses, but my poor stepdad came down with shingles—I was a nervous wreck that my girls would come down with the chicken pox. Normally that wouldn’t have been a big deal, but doing chicken pox while moving would have been terribly inconvenient.

· The movers dropped a box on our baby grand piano, scratching it, and damaging the music stand. They damaged it before they even got it out the door!

So is my complaining warranted…even a little? You can be honest.

As I was giving my sad story to my sister on the phone, she suggested that some cosmic force creates huge road blocks in front of REALLY good things. In other words, the fact that this move was so hard was because it was SO worth it. I kind of hummed along and said, “oh yeah, that must be it”, not really buying it. But so far, I think that cosmic force really did come through for the Bowcuts. We love being here. Sure, we’re still drowning in boxes and adjusting to a home that needs some updates, but overall, we are delighted. A few highlights:

-the neighborhood, the neighborhood, the neighborhood. This truly is why we’re here. It is beautiful. I have to show off our back yard because I think right now it really is my favorite feature. The window above the kitchen sink overlooks it and I love that I get to look out on it multiple times a day.

We love the location—so convenient to the Beltway, our favorite shopping, easy commute for Brian. Very close to NIH should I ever land the perfect part-time job there.

-this place reproduces like rabbits…literally. There truly are rabbits everywhere. It’s totally bizarre. I grew up in Kensington, just a few miles away and sure I saw a rabbit very occasionally, I have never seen anything like this. We were all excited because we have a resident bunny who lives in our backyard. It’s very tame and Ella has gotten within just a few feet of it before it hops off. And then as I’ve gone running on several different routes through the neighborhood, I see our resident bunny isn't such a novelty. They are in almost everyone’s yards, they hop across my path as I run. But bunnies aside, this neighborhood is swarming with kids. For starters, there is a little boy next door Ella’s age, and a little girl her age, named Nora, two houses up. Nora heard that Ella would be moving in and had been anxiously awaiting her arrival.

-the Bethesda Ward (mormon term for church congregation). We’ve only gone one week, but we’ve been very warmly welcomed and so far it seems like a very interesting, engaging community. Plus, several of the people were at one time in the Kensington Ward, where I grew up—it’s nice to have some familiar faces mixed with the new. The Primary seems to be a good size and Ella had a blast at the primary pool party this past weekend.

-the grocery stores. I don’t know what it was about Silver Spring, but the quality of the grocery stores was severely lacking (Trader Joe’s was the exception). Our neighborhood referred to a nearby store as the “Soviet Safeway” because there was never anything on the shelves. Also, our neighborhood invited the managers of the local Giant to a neighborhood meeting so we could complain directly about the lack of shopping carts and rodent holes in the bags of bread. I walked into the Safeway in downtown Bethesda and I almost cried. It was fully stocked, lots of organic choices and a parking lot elevator that didn’t smell like urine. Eureka.

Overall, we can already sense that the agony of getting here was worth it. We’re still working on making it feel like home, but we know that really only time can do that. Address change cards will hopefully make it in the mail soon. We also love, love, love company, so please come visit/stay. The only requirement for room and board is that you peel off a little wallpaper... :)