And Then There Were Three

My adult children are back to school. It seems to be hitting me a little harder this year, perhaps because when they left last year there were still four people in the house. This year with the death of my mom, there are only three, and I am adjusting to yet another "new normal."

It has been an interesting month! Before the college kids left, we took a family camping trip to Big Bend in Texas. It was great in spite of a number of things that didn't quite go as planned. I have written an article on the experience that I hope will be available soon.

One of the challenges of the last month has been our car situation. Both my and my husband's cars had significant repair needs at the same time. As we tried to figure out how to address the situation both financially and logistically, a friend offered us his almost-brand-new Ford Explorer for our use (he has another car available to him). We gratefully accepted and have been using his vehicle for much of this month, including driving it to Texas! It was a humbling offer, one that showed us Christ's love in action. Wow. We planned to use his car again this weekend, as I needed to drive Caitlin to Missouri, and Phillip needed to attend the funeral of a dear aunt. Unfortunately, as Caitlin, Evan and I were about to hit the road, our friend's car started behaving erratically. So we had to postpone her return until Phillip got back with my car (which had been repaired). Having lost a day of travel time, I drove to and from Caitlin's college Saturday, a 16-hour trip. It was a long, long day, but one I was glad I did on Sunday when I was able to wake up in my own bed and go to my own church.

Both our cars are back in service, but my husband's is not long for this world, and we are only driving it around town. We hope to replace it around the first of the year.

Today is supposed to be the first day of school, inasmuch as we have a first day of school around here. :-) The principal is doing his part, but the head teacher is dragging. On top of the fatigue from all the driving, I have a sore throat. Nothing major, but enough to slow me down. I will try to do some planning and organizing today, and maybe we can start tomorrow. It is also going to be a week of cleaning and, I hope, unpacking most of the rest of what I want to unpack. We are having our first party in our new house next weekend, inviting all our music volunteers over to celebrate the start of a new season. Nothing like company to motivate me to do things around the house!

I have learned that the mice in these here parts think our house is their vacation home. We are slowly disabusing them of that notion.

I have been giving some thought to online security and privacy, something about which I have not worried much in the past. But as I put myself out there more and more as a writer, I think it behooves me to take more steps to protect my family's privacy, if not my own. In the near future I am going to revert all my public Facebook posts to private. I have set up a new public Facebook page where I plan to post my writings as well as other links I find informative, encouraging, or entertaining. If interested, you are invited to like and share my page!

 The three that remain. Photo taken last spring at Evan's First Communion. 

We haven't changed too terribly much since then. :-)

The Week

Trevor is home! Phillip will be home tomorrow night. Both of them have to leave again Saturday, so with fewer people around to eat leftovers, Thanksgiving dinner will be scaled back this year. I bought a spiral-spliced ham, the smallest I could find, and a French silk pie at the Jewel bakery. I will make our customary deviled eggs along with several other side dishes. That's it. Thanksgiving morning we are going to worship with our Trinity-Tinley Park family and in the evening we are invited to the home of some dear friends. It should be a nice day.

The house sale is proceeding, although we still haven't nailed down a closing date. We do know that it will be in January. We would like something earlier; the buyers would like later. I'm sure we'll find a date we can all live with. God willing, we'll be in Oklahoma by the first of February. Six months apart is six months too long.

Several days ago I received terrible news about one of my oldest friends. As I understand it, on Monday of last week she fell off a six-foot ladder and lacerated her head. She was treated and sent home but within days was back in the ER, where she was ultimately diagnosed with necrotizing fasciitis. In the last four days she has had four surgeries (called "debridements") to remove necrotized (dead) tissue from her head, neck, shoulders, and chest. More debridements may be necessary. Right now her friends and family are praying for her survival, as 25-40% percent of people who contract this rare condition die from it, even with treatment. Those who survive face a long, painful recovery along with skin grafts and plastic surgery in the affected areas. My heart breaks for my friend and her family.

Here is a picture of me and Shelley from high school.

Here's a picture from about three years ago:

And here's an article about necrotizing fasciitis. If you are not familiar with this killer, please read and become informed now. It is rare, but no one is safe from it, and the best chance for surviving and avoiding the extensive surgical removal of diseased flesh or even limbs is to diagnose and treat it early and aggressively. The primary warning sign is pain that seems out of proportion for the injury. After her initial treatment my friend returned to the doctor with pain and swelling and was given pain medication and steroids and sent home. Her condition worsened and by the time she went back to the ER she was in septic shock with respiratory distress. I can't help wondering how much better her condition might be today if she had been properly diagnosed on her first return visit.

Trevor, Caitlin and I are going to see Catching Fire tomorrow. I also want to see The Book Thief. I am curious how that book is going to make the transition to screen, since I have a hard time envisioning Hollywood's managing to preserve Death as the narrator.

Caitlin is working on her college applications. As we did with Trevor, we are starting to get a "feeling" about one of the schools on her list. That school seems to have the same feeling about her, as the correspondence from their admissions office has kicked into high gear. It is so exciting to see my daughter dreaming about the next stage of her life. I am refusing to think about a day in August of 2014 when we will drop her in a dorm room and return to a house that will then be emptier by two. . . .

Then there's Evan. A little while ago he asked, "Mom, can you get me some socks?" I told him, "Evan, I think you can get your own socks." He replied, "OH, YEAH. I keep forgetting I'm ten years old!" And here I thought I was the one who was an expert at selective amnesia.

This is blessing.

To have a realtor who, when you share some of your misgivings about the sale of your home ("What if something goes wrong?") responds as follows:

"And above all, your life and this deal are in the Lord's hands. So rejoice and have faith in the wonderful plans He has for you and your family! Living in faith is always exciting!"

Thank you, friend.

This Is Getting Hard

Our house has been on the market about two months now. (Phillip has been gone about three months, as it took us a while to get the house ready to list.) We have had many showings but no offers. There has been very little in the way of negative feedback. I know that all we need is for the right person to see it, and that could happen any day--maybe today! Two months is really not that long. But a little voice inside me has started asking, "What if?" When we first put the house on the market I didn't look much past Christmas. And my vision of Christmas was that by that time surely we would have sold the house. I pictured us spending Christmas together in a new house in Oklahoma. But now that little "what if" voice has made itself known, and lately it has been getting louder. What if we don't sell any time soon? What if fall drags into winter, and winter drags into spring, and we're still here, waiting?

It's not just the living apart from my husband that makes this hard, although that's the biggest part of it. It's the realization that this is Caitlin's last year at home before college, and she could end up spending it without her father as a daily presence in her life (and vice versa). It's the realization that Evan has already missed out on one year of singing in his dad's children's choir, and now he is working on year two. It's the realization that we gave up a lot of things on the assumption that we would not be here to participate in them. The feeling of loss regarding those things will be even greater if it turns out we could have kept them in our lives one more year.

And yet as I write this, I feel like a big baby. I know of women who have had to spend much more time living apart from their husbands than I have. I know of women who are permanently without their husbands, rearing children on their own. Who am I to complain? The children and I have the familiarity of our home, our well-traveled paths, and each other. I have more free time than I've had in years! Meanwhile, Phillip is all alone, trying to learn a new job while not having a place he can really call home (he is boarding in a parishioner's house). He has the much harder "row to hoe." And yet he doesn't complain, but spends his time on the phone trying to build me up after working 16-hour days. He puts me to shame.

Once upon a time there was a church I loved too much. It's not my church anymore. There were some friends I needed too much. They're not in my life anymore. I have been told that I love my husband too much. He lives in another state now. Maybe if I loved this house more it would finally sell. . . .

One Thing Leads to Another

Road trip!

Ever since it became clear that we are moving to Oklahoma, I have been trying to do things that will be geographically harder to do once we leave this area. At the top of that list is a visit to one of my best friends in the world. She lives with her family in eastern Iowa, only a few hours from here. The schedule finally cleared enough to allow us to plan a get-together. So next week Caitlin, Evan and are looking forward to spending some time with our friends on their farm, enjoying fun and fellowship.

Then, as I was talking to my husband, he pointed out that it would not be too far out of our way to swing by one of the colleges Caitlin is interested in looking at: Truman State University in Kirksville, Missouri. So we decided to add a night to our trip and schedule a campus tour. Then upon studying the map, I discovered that our drive home would take us right through Hannibal, Missouri! Why does that excite us? Have you ever read Huckleberry Finn? If you haven't, you should! Hannibal is the childhood home of author Mark Twain and the model for the town of St. Petersburg in that book and its precursor Tom Sawyer. The town boasts a Mark Twain museum, a Mark Twain cave with live storyteller, and a riverboat ride, among other attractions.

So, a move leads to a visit with a friend, which leads to a campus tour, which leads to a family field trip, which of course can only mean one thing: it's time to read as much of Tom Sawyer to Evan as I can before Thursday of next week! That's how we roll in the Philipp Nicolai Lutheran Academy!

Visit to Shedd Aquarium

We have been trying to fill our remaining time in Chicagoland with some important "lasts": last trips to favorite places, last times to eat at restaurants that we won't be able to find in Oklahoma, last visits with friends, etc. Yesterday we went to Shedd Aquarium with one of Evan's best friends in the area and his mom. Circumstances have prevented Evan and his friend Evan (yes, they have the same name!) from seeing each other this past year, so this was an important get-together, not only for the sake of fun but for the sake of closure. It was a very good day and I did take a few pictures.

Waiting for the dolphin show.



Petting the sting rays.

Friends





I am hoping that these two will be able to maintain their friendship across the miles. It is easier to do that these days--some of my dearest friends are long distance ones. And they are old enough to do so now and to not forget each other. There is just something special about their relationship. They have always seemed to "click." My Evan sometimes has trouble interacting with children his own age. He takes things so much to heart, and he sometimes misinterprets the playful words and actions of others. But he and his friend Evan seem to understand each other. I am sad they haven't been able to spend as much time together as they once did, and I am sad that my little boy has to leave this friend behind. Thank you to The Other Evan and his mom for being such good friends. We will miss you.

How to Be a Grown-up

Katie Schuermann at He Remembers the Barren has a post today that is not just for those who are childless. (Truth be told, nothing at Katie's blog is for the childless only. It is a site dripping with Gospel comfort for all who live under the cross.)

Katie's target audience is the barren woman who is the victim of unwanted counsel from well-meaning, and sometimes not so well-meaning, advice givers. She acknowledges that while there are those clueless louts whose unthinking bowling ball comments flatten the recipient with their cruelty, most people will follow the lead of the one with whom they are conversing and will not walk through a door that has not been opened:

So, let’s give the world a break and take some responsibility for the conversations we keep. Let’s not blog-blame others for finishing the conversations we start ourselves and, instead, kindly explain to our friends and acquaintances face-to-face what we need most from them.

It's good advice for all of us. I have on more than one occasion watched as someone who is facing challenges in his life in the area of parenting, health, job, church, or something else has become indignant when, after bemoaning his situation, the one to whom he was belly-aching presumed to offer advice. I have done it myself. It soon becomes clear that what is wanted is not advice but sympathy. Fine. But it is unreasonable, once the subject is raised, to be offended when the person with whom you raised the subject offers some comment upon it.

Thank you, Katie, for your wise counsel. Whoever has ears to hear, let him hear. 

Yes, I'm Still Here

I guess it hasn't been that long. Just a little over a week. I've been sort of busy! Here's the rundown.

On Monday I went to St. Louis to spend some time with Phillip at the LCMS convention. Here's a little about what he was doing.  It was fun. He let me play the tambourine.

Tuesday was my birthday. For the record, it was not my fiftieth. I was happy to run into some Loopers (Lutheran homeschoolers) that I have known online for a long time but had never met in person. I also met up with Rebekah and spent about three hours talking her ear off. (Have I mentioned that she is one of the nicest people you could ever hope to meet?) Phillip and I then went to regular reader Untamed Shrew's home for a supper of salmon, rice and green beans and a sopapilla cheesecake that was to die for. Thanks, Rev. and Mrs. Shrew!

Then, at about 1:30 that morning, my daughter called. What had seemed to be a mild allergic reaction to working outside had worsened, and her face was swelling painfully. I told her to get my Epi-pen (which I have as a precaution because I take allergy shots), alert Trevor, and call 911 if she had any sign of oral swelling or trouble breathing. I packed quickly and headed home, arriving a little before 7:00. My poor girl looked as though she had been in a bar fight. We went to the ER, where she was given IV medications to reduce the swelling and offset the reaction. She is doing much better, but you can see in this photo where her arms are red four days later. We still don't know what caused the reaction but suspect some sort of poisonous plant in ours or the neighbor's back yard.

We have been doing a lot of packing this week. Sort of (see above).

Phillip's installation at our new church has been set for Sunday, August 18, at 4:00. It is in the afternoon to allow others in the area to come. He had a great time this past week meeting the Oklahoma delegation at the convention! We are overjoyed to be joining them in carrying the message of the Gospel to Christ's people there. Phillip plays his first services at Immanuel today. We will have to be with him in spirit.

And in the "I can't explain it" department, something strange happened to me this week. I can pinpoint the moment. I was driving somewhere in the car, thinking things over, and suddenly some long-felt hurt and anger drained out of me. I don't know why it happened where and when it did, but it happened. Thanks for not giving up on me, God. I knew you wouldn't, but sometimes I wondered how long you would wait.

"The Lord is my light and my salvation; whom shall I fear? The Lord is the strength of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?" - Psalm 27:1

Memory Lane

Purging and organizing have begun in earnest as we look to a move in the next few months. Today I spent a good deal of time going through memorabilia, including many notes, cards and letters that people have written to us--and particularly to my husband in his work as a church musician--over the years. As I was reading through some of these treasures, the thought occurred to me that not only did they offer encouragement when they were first sent, but they are offering encouragement today. To use a cliché, they are truly gifts that keep on giving! Little did the people who sent them know how their words would live on.

Sometimes in life the voices of criticism, however few and weak and insubstantial they may be, can drown out the voices of approval. I think of my piano students, and how I like to tell them that it takes twenty times of playing something right to balance the one time they played it wrong. Unfortunately that seems to hold true for life as well. One person tells you you're no good, you're not worth his time, you're an impediment or a problem, and that's the person you have a hard time ignoring in spite of the hundred voices that are saying something else. So if there is someone in your life who has been a blessing to you, I encourage you to let him or her know. Not with an email that will get lost or even a phone call that will be over when you hang up, but with an old-fashioned card or note. Your subject will not only be encouraged when he reads your words tomorrow or the next day, but he will be encouraged when he rereads them five or ten or twenty years down the road. And as he soaks in your love and affirmation, gaining strength for the next part of his journey, he will think of you and be glad.

Goodbye to a Friend

Yesterday I had coffee with a friend. Because due to our move I'm not sure when we will see each other again, I asked the lady at the next table to take a picture of us before we said goodbye.

I first came to know Melinda about 13 years ago, when I joined the staff of Young Naperville Singers as a choral accompanist. At the time she was already accompanying several of the choirs of the organization, including the oldest, most advanced group. I don't think I had even actually met Melinda when I experienced her kindness for the first time. Arriving at my first rehearsal, I found a gift (I think it was homemade bread) and card waiting for me on the piano, warmly welcoming me to the group and wishing me a great first year. This was only the first of many such thoughtful acts from this lovely lady over the years.

Life being what it is, I have taken several breaks from YNS (one to have that nine-year-old who so often makes his way into my posts), but for most of that time Melinda was a constant presence in YNS, impacting it as only she could have done, both with her musicianship and with her humanity. When she left a few years ago to take a full-time position as staff accompanist at an area high school, her absence was acutely felt. Meanwhile that high school got three people for the price of one. Melinda is one of those individuals who, because she cares so much, does not know how to give anything less than her all. And what is her all? Oh my. It is a level of musicianship that I can only dream about--technical excellence that makes everything she plays seem bewilderingly effortless; an ear that hears things very few people do and a level of artistry that knows how to carry a musical idea from conception to reality; and an incredible range of ability that runs the gamut from classical masterworks to jazz improvisation and everything in between. As if all of that weren't enough, she is above all a collaborative musician, one who is happiest creating ensemble by working with others. I was honored to sit on the piano bench next to her several times on choral pieces requiring two pianists. Oh dear, was I nervous. I mean, this lady has worked in New York City and Graz, Austria. But I shouldn't have been. If you are a musician you have probably met other musicians whose primary goal is to draw attention to their superiority. Melinda could do that if she wanted to. But instead her primary goal has always seemed the exact opposite: to build up others in their musical confidence and sense of worth. Melinda once told me she admired my touch on the piano. I wonder if she realizes that I got about ten years worth of musical and personal mileage out of that one comment?

Melinda brought me a gift again yesterday, one that reflected the thought and care she put into it. I have never been very good with gifts but am okay with words so this post is for her. Thank you, Melinda, for your friendship, your kindness, your encouragement and your heart. I will miss you greatly!

Birthday Pictures

Phillip had a most excellent birthday last week. We started the evening by going out to one of his favorite restaurants, Heaven on Seven. He thought it was just going to be our immediate family, but there were a few surprise guests already seated. The first picture is of some of our dear friends in the area; the second is of a couple who drove all the way from Minnesota to be here for his fiftieth. We love them all so much.

You know these guys.

After dinner we went to the home of one of those dear couples above and sat on their deck by the fire while enjoying their lovely view.

Creole Chocolate Bourbon Cake for the king of our castle! 

Watching Dad open presents.

There's a story behind this sequence of pictures. Yep, there is. 

For Evan, the best part--opening presents!

What every cantor wants--a new organ book! (He actually got five.)

The pages fold out to help with page turns!

This one is here just because it's so wonderful.

The kids and I prepared a hymn to sing to the one who usually either sings or leads the singing. This time he just got to listen. We sang "How Firm a Foundation" (for my LSB friends, #728). It is one of his favorites and seemed to fit, what with the fiery trials, all-sufficient grace, and gray hairs. :-) Caitlin sang the first stanza, we did harmony on the second, Trevor sang the third, we did canon on the fourth, and our friends joined in on the fifth. In the first picture I am enjoying watching Phillip listen to his daughter. 

May this year be your best yet, our dearest husband and father.

O Christmas Tree

Last week some friends invited us to their property to chop down a Christmas tree. We had planned to go the day after Thanksgiving (while Trevor was still in town) but it was too windy. (Okay, that's only part of the story. The rest of the story is that we were all too full and sleepy from the previous day's feasting. And besides, the Huskers were on television!)

We finally did get to go this past Saturday. This is early for us to get a tree. Usually we wait until closer to Christmas. But we are wising up. The next few weeks are going to be stacked with rehearsals, concerts, and worship services, in addition to all the usual Christmas preparations. Doing this now means we won't be cramming it into the one several-hour period between now and Christmas that we are all available and healthy and the weather is cooperating. And since the tree is freshly cut, it ought to last through Christmas and Epiphany.

Here's the tree selection team heading out. Can you believe our friends' property is in the heart of the south Chicago burbs?

It's the great Christmas tree patch, Charlie Brown!

Found one!

Manly man at work. 

So much depends upon a green wagon . . . . 

Is this what they mean by catching someone red-handed?

Tree-tying team at work. 

Decorating in progress. (Vince Guaraldi playing in the background.)

Done!

And Then Again, Some Are

A few days ago I posted about friendship. It's a topic I have written about before that for various reasons has lately come back into focus. One of those reasons is something that happened last weekend. One of my oldest friends, a best friend from my junior high days, found me on Facebook. We only went to the same school for three years--sixth, seventh, and eighth grades--before I moved again. But when we met we immediately connected and even though we lost touch somewhere along the way I have never forgotten her. I have looked for her over the years on Facebook but couldn't find her under her maiden name. I am so glad she was able to find me!

We have spent the last week catching up on each other's lives and recalling the past. I don't know why, but I have never seemed to have a very good memory when it comes to past events, even extremely significant ones. Some months ago my husband showed me on Facebook a photograph of a church sanctuary. He smiled broadly, waiting for my reaction. He didn't get the one he was anticipating. "Nice church," I said. It turned out it was the church we got married in. Sigh. I felt so bad (but in my defense, we moved shortly after marriage and have not been back to that church since then).

Anyway, my long lost junior high friend--her name is Kathy--has blessed me with so many memories this week. A few I don't personally recall, but others I do now that she has prodded them loose. We have had fun remembering . . . .

Having a fan club devoted to filling scrapbooks with pictures and clippings about our favorite stars (mine was Barbra Streisand).

Going camping with my parents.

Signing up to play doubles tennis and losing horribly in the first round of the tournament (we were so very bad and the "coach" offered us no instruction at all but focused entirely on those who already knew how to play).

Performing in the school talent show. Kathy sang with several of our other friends and I played piano. What song did we do? "Sing" by The Carpenters.

Visiting our English teacher's home on the spur of the moment and having her invite us in and cook for us. Something that could have only happened in the 1970's in a small Texas town.

A few days ago I got this note from Kathy:

We will keep in touch. You were my very first friend growing up. You never judged me because we were so poor. So many happy childhood memories because of you and your family. I still remember the first time I invited you over to spend the night. We cooked steak and became best friends. I still have a recipe you wrote out for strawberry shortcake on a recipe card. I don't think we made it, though. I remember all your Archie comics we would read at your house and we would write short stories and we loved English and our English teacher Mrs. Powell and we even ate at her house once . . . . Life sure was a lot simpler back then. . . . I sure did enjoy listening to you play the piano and your concerts we would go to in Austin. I remember my favorite was at your house and I would bug you to play "The Sting" . . . . When I come for a visit I will bring that recipe!

I wrote back to Kathy that the not judging works both ways. My father was a good man but he was an alcoholic and when he drank, his behavior and language were very harsh. I remember frequently feeling embarrassed when my friends were around to see it. Kathy told me she remembered that but also remembered all the things my dad did for us and the places he took us. 

Kathy, I can't possibly express what a blessing you have been to me this week. The title of my last post was "Friends are Friends Forever . . . Not." But this week I was reminded again that some friends are indeed  forever. They may fade for a time, but when you least expect it, they come back and bless you all over again! More and more I am understanding that God gives us the friends we need when we need them. Our calling is to be thankful in this as in all things. "The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord." (Job 1:21) 

Friends are Friends Forever . . . Not

Online friendship sometimes gets a bad rap. People have legitimate concerns about it. It's harder to maintain a friendship when you don't see the other person for long periods of time. You sometimes wonder if you really know that other person as well as you think you do. Would you like each other as much if you saw one another on a daily basis? And yet one thing about online friendship is that if someone continues hanging around, reading your emails, responding back, interacting with you on social media, occasionally even making an effort to get together in person, you kind of start to think that maybe he or she really does care about you. Because if he doesn't, dropping you is a mere click of the mouse away. Flesh and blood people, on the other hand, are kind of stuck with you. If you work with a person, live in the same neighborhood, go to church together, etc., you don't have much choice but to put up with him or her. So you learn to get along. Sometimes you even get along really well. But when contact is required rather than optional you don't really ever know what the other person thinks of you. You may think you do, but you don't--not until such time as that person has a choice of whether to continue the relationship or not. And I suppose that's a good thing. We all do what we must to get along, and we can't be bosom buddies with everyone we come into contact with on a daily basis. Some relationships are for a lifetime; others are only for a season. But sometimes there are people in your life that you come to think of as friends who, it turns out, were just being polite, putting up with you until they didn't have to anymore. And that is disappointing to learn.

Pure Michigan!

Last week I visited "The UP" (Michigan Upper Peninsula) for the first time. Some friends of ours have a summer home in Manistique, and they invited us to join them for a few days. There was no arm-twisting required to get us to leave the Oven Formerly Known as Chicago for a short getaway.

This is our friends' house. They have worked all last summer and this summer updating it. Isn't it lovely? It is only a few blocks from Lake Michigan. When we arrived the first evening quite late, we could see the stars and hear the waves. The house has no air conditioning but the moderate UP climate, open windows, and fans in almost every room kept things comfortably cool. I almost felt like I was in Grenada again.

We enjoyed several activities during our stay. One day we went to see Kitch-iti-kipi. I'll let you click on the link to find out more, but here are a few pics from our visit.

A boat with a clear glass floor allows riders to look down and see the spring.

Evan and Caitlin waving from the boat dock.

Pretty girl.

Looking down through the viewing glass on the floor of the boat. The lighter colored area is due to the bubbling of the spring.

Trees reflected in the water.

Our hostess powering the boat.

Two peas in a pod.

Playground in the park at Kitch-iti-kipi. We did some swinging! Yes, that's me with the crazy hair.

And there's that pretty one again.

My own little--um, make that big--Dora the Explorer.

Later this same day we went to the boardwalk in Manistique and visited a nearby lighthouse.

Trevor is not pictured because he stayed behind to manage the homefront for us. Thanks, Trevor!

Look!

Our final outing was--of course!--a trip to the beach.

Back at the house and a little sunburned. It's hard to cover every spot with sunscreen!

What better way to wrap up a beach day than with some s'mores? Is that redundant?

As we sat, the bats came out and flew around our heads. You think I'm kidding.

Thank you, Paul, Elise and Evelyn, for your friendship and hospitality. You all rock. We'll be in touch about our return trip. :-)