Now it is my turn

Several summers ago I visited a friend whose daughter was leaving for college in the coming weeks. One whole section of their house was literally filled from the floor to the ceiling with stuff. Stuff  that she need for college. According to who? I asked this with a shocked face, open mouth as I stood looking at all of this stuff that we had to learn to navigate around when we walked from one side of the house to the other. I thought they were crazy.

I also listened to my friend bemoan the fact that she was losing her daughter and I listened to the daughter bemoan the fact that her mother didn't want her to get out in life and enjoy it. I could relate somewhat to both of them, but not really. I, as usual, offered up my sage advice which I knew to be right and which I had no business giving. I had no idea what she was going through. I mean I thought I did, sort of, but yeah, I had no idea.

Two years later I lived through the process again with my SIL. We were in Indiana a few weeks before he left for college and his new purchases were stacked in a row in the dining room. His pile wasn't as large as my friend's daughter's pile and I was certainly better prepared for the items needed, but I still was overwhelmed by all the stuff. (picture credit to Susan)

I listened to my SIL bemoan the fact that she was losing her son, but this time I paid attention. I probably took it to heart too much because then I started wandering around my own house whining about losing my daughters until they finally said, "Mom! Stop! We have to get through high school first." I'm sure I offered up some more sage advice to my SIL, but she is good about telling me to zip it when she knows I can't possibly relate. 

Well, now it is my turn. Last week my daughter, the high school senior, after a quick overnight visit to North Carolina, committed to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. She will be packing up her belongings and heading out the door. Both my friend and my SIL feel for me, but while I know they understand somewhat they don't really understand. Because both of their children stayed in the same state they were in! My daughter is going to live MILLIONS OF MILES FROM ME! 

It has been a rough few months. Madison has stressed about decisions and the final year of high school. Her last day of school is tomorrow, but then she has three weeks of the IB boards that she must take to earn her International Baccalaureate diploma. While she should have been studying for those tests she was rolling around on her bed with her fingers in her ears telling us to stop reminding her that she needs to choice a college. Eventually she narrowed it down to two choices, and while we were visiting the preview at one choice school (in state!), she got the acceptance into UNC.  Both my husband and I liked Florida State just fine. She, however, wasn't thrilled. She didn't have that "ah ha" moment everyone kept telling her would happen. So my husband sent the Madison and me to North Carolina to their preview. Both of us had the moment.

It is a beautiful campus and visiting in the spring it is in all of its blooming glory. The buildings are architecturally built, and they are very old, and very stunning, and sitting in the middle of a campus that was popping with color and shaded by ancient trees. Who wouldn't love that part of this school? I did keep reminding her that this state actually had winter weather and it wouldn't always be like this, but she loves changing weather and coldness. 

The day was busy and went by fast, but every student, teacher, and administrator kept saying the same thing: "This college and the people in it are a family." Everywhere we went that came up; in the parent/student question session, in the campus tour, during our visit with the honors department. They also talked about academics and how smart UNC students were and never once did they talk about going on to grad school. Instead they focused on what would be my daughter's next four years. I could see Madison here. Apparently she could see herself too.

As soon as we got home she took a day to make her final decision. From the moment she committed everyone in our house just felt relief. We walked around for another two days just feel giddy and stress free. And then my husband started talking about registering for this and signing up for that and we started another round of nagging to get things done. But this time Madison was all over it. She filled out a housing questionnaire, accepted her place in the honors program and in the research program, joined a facebook group and within two days she had her roommate lined up. Another girl in the honors program read Maddy's profile and sent Maddy her profile and soon they were chatting on the phone for hours and signing up to room together. That's when it really hit me.

I'm losing my little girl! 

Visit from the northerners

My family flew into town for a brief visit before they headed off to the land of magic for vacation. I was suppose to accompany them on the trip to Disney World, but ended up on my own plan flying in the opposite direction. So we had to make the most of the time we had and cram in everything that my SIL needs from her beloved Florida.

I picked them up at the airport in the evening and took them to a restaurant that I hadn't been to in years despite its close proximity to my house. Because it was a Thursday and because it was way after the dinner crowd, we had no trouble getting in and getting seated. Except that my brother got quite chummy with a stranger in the parking lot.

He made comments about my parking job; something he always did in our youth and to which he got into some trouble back in the day. He has yet to learn. So he made fun of my parking abilities. There was a group of elder folks waiting for me to finish parking so that they could get into the vehicle next to mine and when we exited our car they told me what a great job I had done parking. My brother had to, of course, make some comments and one white haired gentleman felt the need to stop and defend me. While the three of us talked Susan and Gabby went into the restaurant and the rest of the man's party got into their parked car.

The topic of conversation turned to the Midwest and when my brother learned where this man was from he began a discussion on a golf course in this guy's area and one where my brother had played in a tournament. At some point while they talked I realized that the car next to us (and the one this man's party had gotten into) was pulling out. The man paid it no mind. He also paid it no mind when it drove away. I thought that a little odd and had a moment of panic, but figured that this man had driven himself in another car. It turned out that they just didn't notice his absence until they got a little further down the road. They turned around and came back into the parking lot where the two men were STILL talking, both oblivious to the fact that this man was stranded. They honked and made the man leave my brother so they could all go home. It reminded me of my dad and how much my brother is like him.

The next day we spent going through some of my mother's stuff and taking a walk on the beach. Oh, and eating. This family can flat out EAT.

They got to see the high school play that both of my girls were involved with. It was a comedy by Woody Allen and I have to say it was entertaining, funny, and quite good. I'm impressed with how well these high school drama departments really are!

The final day we had together we spent at my house poolside. Rusty actually got into a bathing suit and got into the pool. Again, shades of my father who always forgot to pack a bathing suit when we vacationed to the beach and who always left to buy one.

We finished off the last night with a pizza on the beach and a stroll along the pier where the girls got henna tattoos and had a cartoon portrait done.

It was a nice time, but way too short. Until next time....

Oh, no he didn't say that

Last weekend while at my MIL's for computer repair I was standing in front of her kitchen closet deciding what snack to have when I noticed this constant buzzing sound. I stood still and listened for its origin and wondered aloud what it was. It was seriously driving me crazy and so I wandered into her living room where I thought the noise might be. Once there I stood again and listened and then followed the noise to an outlet behind a table next to her fireplace. Plugged into the wall was this:

I pulled it out of the wall and the noise stopped. I examined it. The words Black & Decker were on the top, a little light was under that, and on the right side of the device was another plug. I turned it over and over in my hand and wondered what the heck the thing was and why there was another plug on the side. I finally gave up and laid it down on the little table, returning to my eating dilemma.

Eventually after consuming some unhealthy treats, I returned to the kitchen where I stood in front of the refrigerator eating green grapes from a plate. As I chowed I registered yet another buzzing sound this one a tad higher and more buzzy. Wondering aloud what in the world was happening in this house, I followed the noise to another outlet behind her kitchen chair where I found the same thing plugged into the wall. I pulled it out and the noise stopped. I examined it again, and after finding it to be the exact copy of the first one, returned it to its plug and went into the living room to retrieve the first one. That one I took in to the computer room to show my husband.

Me: "What is this?"

Tom: "I don't know. What is it?"

Me: "I have no idea which is why I'm asking you. There are two of them in this house and both are making god awful buzzing noises that I don't think your mother hears."

Tom: "They're probably some kind of roach killer."

Me: "What? Plugged into the wall? How does that kill roaches?"

Tom: "I don't know. Look it up."

So I did. I searched Black & Decker wall plugs and the first thing that popped up was a pack of three of these things at Amazon. When I went to the page I discovered that they were indeed direct plug in insect repellers great for insect and bug control. The description, which I read aloud to Tom, said it repelled mice, roaches, spiders, and other pests by emitting a constant changing of complex ultrasonic sounds that were silent to humans. Because only "pests hear sounds in the ultrasonic range."

Tom: "There you go. Only pests hear those sounds. I rest my case."

Cara: "You rest your case? What does that mean?"

Tom: "You heard the buzzing, right? Only pests hear that."

Cara: "Are you saying that I'm a pest?"

Tom: "I can't speak for my mother as to why she has those all over her house, but in her defense she didn't know you were coming over here today."

Cara: "You keep it up buddy you might just might find out what this pest is really capable of!"

Almost a year

It is coming up on the anniversary of my mother's death. Is there such a thing? An anniversary for a death? I'm not sure that is truly something to say, but next week it will be a year since my mother died. A year since my brother and my aunt and I sat in hospice for five days saying good-bye, sharing, bonding, and waiting. The year has flown by and each week has brought something new or nothing at all in regards to my feelings about all of it; life, death, relationships.

My brother and his family are arriving today for a small blip of a vacation to celebrate a cancer free SIL, a niece turning sixteen, and a chance for my brother and I to say, hey, remember last year at this time? Sort of odd how that turned out to be the same week. I was suppose to spend the whole week with them, but a college preview got in the way and so we won't have the whole week, but we will have some days and hey, just being together is nice. I was excited about the chance to spend time with my brother. I've written before about wishing our relationship was more and since last year it has been, and when he asked me to join his family this week well it was a wonderful feeling. Until it wasn't. Because I worried about the whole anniversary thing. Because his feelings are different from my feelings and what if my feelings and my truth hurt him? What if in reliving or telling stories or sharing feelings I told the truth? And what if that truth put a wedge between us or broke that newly, fragile bond?

Then the college visit to North Carolina cropped up and our week of togetherness went down to a couple of days and I figured for a couple of days I could wing it. I would be the older sister ready for his outpouring of feelings that would surely come since he has not been back in a year. I wouldn't have to talk about the dreams that I continuously have where mother is alive, still handicapped, still mean to me, and how in the dream I have so much dread that it is all going to start up again and go back to those days of what I considered pure torture. I wouldn't have to show him her journals where she wrote from her heart, but broke mine. I wouldn't have to admit to him that there were days, even the last day when she went into hospice, where I stepped outside of my body and left my shell to coldly stare at her. What would be the point in sharing that with someone who felt a huge loss instead of relief?

Then April came and with it came a shower of emotions that have made me think that the old Connie, the mother I dearly loved once upon a time, will be able to be in my life, to be remembered without scorn, sadness, and anger. There have been a few days where I have felt that in the last year; times where I picked up the phone to share something with her, times I dialed the phone to listen to her voice on the answering machine. But mostly I was negative and hating myself for feeling that way, and hating everyone else for judging me; because I knew they were.

But now as the year approaches I have  more of a sense of calmness. I have suddenly heard my mother laugh the way she use to laugh when she was really happy and her face was really smiling with joy. I have thought about her holding my daughters when they were born, sitting on my couch just holding them in her arms while they slept and she read the paper or talked or just let me be free to do other things knowing my babies were cared for and loved. I have been open to hearing others happy memories of her and been open to sharing some of my own. While watching a television program the other night the content made me realize something about her and the tears just flowed, and I felt relief.

This week might be a hard one. It might not. I will let it play out how it may. I will probably talk and I will probably keep quiet. My mother and I were not perfect and our relationship certainly wasn't, but neither is life. And I'm still here and living it. I have to remember that.

Difference between man and woman

We were heading over the river and through the woods when we came to a red stoplight. He stopped and we both waited and watched as a dark haired woman jaywalked right in front of our car. She was headed to the Walgreens to our right and she carried several bags of recycled material and wore a large sun hat tilted at an angle where the sun would reach her face. I examined her weather beaten face as she peered around our vehicle before crossing. Her face was grotesquely made up with thick, black liner circling her eyelids and eyes and coming together in a point at the corner. At the corners the eyeliner had been used to draw some sort of symbol that resembled a star, but wasn't quite as pointy. I wondered as she passed by what sort of statement she was making or if she had slept in that face. It was so strange, I thought the way people were so different.

Tom: "Yep, those suckers were fake."

Me: "What?"

Tom: "That woman. Those boobs were way too big to be real. Those suckers were as fake as could be."

Me: "I didn't even notice her chest."

Tom: "What? How could you not notice those things? They were bulging out in front of her for the whole world to see. They were gigantic. And fake. You had to have noticed that."

Me: "I guess I was focused on something else."

Tom: "I don't know how you could have missed those suckers. They had to be fake."

And we continued on to grandmother's house each of us looking at a vastly different landscape.

Homework project 100,000 and counting

As I hid from Elliot during one of our hide and seek games (he is always the seeker), I found myself staring at a display of insects that Darcy had to do as a project for middle school. I haven't thrown the project out because it is in a nice shadow box that I feel I could use for something and so the entire display sits on a cabinet in my front entrance way. I noticed that some of the description tags were fading, and as I stared at it I thought about how hard we had worked to put that thing together. She and her friend Sarina caused a lot of stress on that project that they left to complete until the last minute. I went through the whole day of searching for bugs, typing up descriptions, buying that shadow box. That got me thinking how nice it was that those days of scrambling around town frantic to help my children score well on a project were done. No more shouting about getting things done in a timely manner. No more having to do so much of the work myself just to get it done on time. It was a nice feeling.

That lasted until I picked up Darcy and Sarina who informed me that they had to go to our house to complete a history project due the next day. It was as if they had read my mind earlier that day and laughed. "That poor, poor woman. Who said she was done?" The project was one that Madison had done in her sophomore year where she had to find a famous historical photo to recreate. She and her friends had recreated the picture of the Kennedy's and the governor and his wife in the motorcade in Dallas before Kennedy was shot. Madison was Governor Connally. I didn't really think much about the girls statement as Darcy had talked about the project during spring break and I thought she had the picture already picked out.

I was wrong. Suddenly it was déjà vu. I was looking up pictures on my phone in the living room while the two girls were looking up pictures on their devices in the bedroom. We wasted over an hour trying to find a picture with just two people in it, let along with girls or women. Sarina and I finally both found the same picture and we all decided it was the best one.

The picture was from the civil rights movement in 1962 and showed two women sitting at a lunch counter in a  New York City restaurant. It was taken by Bruce Davidson. Seemed easy enough until we began looking at everything that needed to be recreated. The scrambling began. 1. We started with Sarina. She pulled back her hair to make it shorter and Darcy found a top and a dress that had stripes and a collar. Her outfit was harder. She had a collared, sleeveless shirt, but it wasn't checked. We came up with the idea to use tape to checker it. Off to the neighbor's house they went to get masking tape as the masking tape we owned had the name of the store embossed all over it.

2. While Darcy worked on her shirt I studied the photo. We needed cups and after I looked at it some more I remembered that my parents had a shot glass in just that shape. I sat awhile and thought about that shot glass. I was sure my mother had kept that glass and that it was at The Condo in her kitchen cabinet. The thought of driving thirty minutes to The Condo had my blood boiling until I casually looked over my shoulder into my dining room and saw that low and behold I had brought that thing home with me.

Darcy found some coned cups that she had for her slurpee maker and we made a glass. One down, two more to go. I got some duct tape and attempted to make another shot glass and when I realized I couldn't do it I enlisted Madison from her studying. She joined in and created two more glasses from duct tape. 3. Darcy's top was finished by now and she went to work finishing her character with pearl earrings and a necklace taken from our Pretty Pretty Princess Game. Sarina found rings for her fingers and used one of the game necklaces in her hair. 4. We gathered everything and got into the car where we headed to the Dollar Store for a sugar container. 5. Darcy was sure that Steak n' Shake would have the napkin holders, but I thought that McDonald's might have them, and I knew they had accessible counter tops so we went there first. I dropped off the three girls and while they did take a photo there was no napkin container. I vetoed that photo and we went to Steak n'Shake. The place was packed and there was no napkin container. By now the shouting from me was happening.

Me: "Why did you two leave this until the last moment? This was not a hard project. You had all of spring break to get this stupid photo taken! I don't remember Madison having this much trouble."

Madison: "We did ours in like five minutes."

Darcy: "Not helping Madison."

I texted a friend for help in finding the napkin holder. She gave us some ideas, but by now Madison had remembered that Firehouse Subs had some containers that were similar. We left Steak n' Shake and I drove to Firehouse. As we walked toward the restaurant we could see napkin containers, not quite the same size, sitting on a counter in the window. I told them this was it and to get the job done while I ordered dinner. Kill two birds with one stone I figured.

6. The girls had to ask to use the end of the counter where the employees worked. They cleaned off an area for the girls who pulled up chairs and went to work recreating. Madison went around the counter to take the photo. We had to do several shots to get it close to the original. I tried to stay out of the way, sitting off to the side eating a bag of Funyans, but I did insist on okaying the final product.

It wasn't perfect, but we thought it was a darn good attempt. Especially at the last minute. We gathered our dinner and headed back home. 7. Darcy and Sarina had to cite the photo and write a brief summary before sending the finished product to Walgreens' one hour photo. At 9:00 that night I drove them to pick it up, dropped off Sarina, and collapsed at home. Four hours of scrambling. I told both of my girls that that was it. That was my last time of that nonsense. From now on they are on their own.

Who am I kidding?

Oh, no he didn't!

Darcy is the prop master for the school's upcoming play, Don't Drink the Water. She brings home various props to work on them and recently brought home some sticks of dynamite which she left sitting on our dining room table. I thought they were very well made, but had no idea why she brought them home to sit on my Easter decorated table.

The other morning as I sat working at my computer in the Steelers room I heard Tom walking toward me making a sizzling noise. I was very busy and while that noise penetrated my brain I must admit it didn't break through the barrier of what I was doing. Which made it funnier.

Tom: "ssssssssssss"

He leaned over me to kiss me good-bye and casually handed me a stick of dynamite as he continued making the noise.

Tom: "Here can you hold this?"

I must admit that after I took the dynamite, my brain still on my work, I was horrified when everything finally hit me. Of course, it would have been too late by then if that had been real instead of a prop. I questioned his motives, but he was laughing too hard and eventually I joined in. It was funny. He is funny like that. It is exactly something my dad would have done too.

After the laughter I did have to point out that it would have been funnier and safer for him if he had run after he gave it me. Because really he would have gone up in smoke with me.

Out of the mouths of my babes

Darcy: "To play password everyone gives me a word and we want it to be hard so that the other guys can't get it. Okay? What's your word?"

Jaimee: "Oregano."

Darcy: "How do you spell that? I can't spell that."

Jaimee: "I thought you went to that high fa-looting school."

Darcy: "I just attended."

Photobomb!

Me: "Okay, backseat picture! On the way to the sponge docks!"

*****

Me: "Darcy, go stand over there and I'll take your picture."

Carson: "Photobomb!"

*****

Darcy: "Mom, take a picture of me in front of the sunset."

Darcy: "Carson, quick let my mom take a picture of me."

Carson: "Okay, go!"

Darcy: "Stop photobombing! Come on Carson, please."

Darcy: "Wait. Where is he?"

Carson: "I'm right here!"

Darcy: "Is he in the picture?"

Carson: "Yes, he is!"

*****

Jaimee: "Okay, girls! Let's get a picture of all of the girls."

Carson: "And Carson! Photobomb!"

Spring Break 2015 - kayaking

I have a couple of friends who own kayaks and paddle out from the causeway near The Condo. Because my family was game to anything, I threw that out as something to do. They took it. We were at the causeway by 9:30 am. ready and willing to sail away.

We rented four two seater kayaks. Shad took the two boys in one. Madison and Darcy took kayak number two and Sailor and Lily took number three. That left Jaimee and me in the last kayak to bring up the rear. We spent several minutes trying on life jackets and emptying our pockets of valuables before we headed down to the water for our "beginners instructions".

Kayak Kid - "Pretty much everyone wants to row like they're in a canoe. Instead row like you are swimming and push down hardest on the arm reaching forward and the paddle will just pop out. See that island out there? It will take you 15 minutes to get out to it. Along the way there is a sandbar with tons of sand dollars that you can get. Once you get to the island, pull your kayak way up since the tide is still going out, and then just have fun on the island. There are tons of shells and you can swim and you can kayak around it if you want, but today is windy so you might not want to do that. We'll see you back here in two hours. Oh, and if the boats go past you they will send up a wake so push your knees against the side of the kayak to keep it steady."

So we did. All of that. Shad and the boys set off like they were in a race for a pennant or big money. They probably got to the island in less then the fifteen minutes, but there was no trophy waiting for them so they circled back toward the rest of us. Madison and Darcy went far behind them, but they circled back to Sailor and Lily who were trying to get one of the many sand dollars on the sand bar.

Darcy: "We would have beaten Shad, but we turned around to help the girls. Just so you know."

Jaimee and I took our time enjoying the peace, the birds, the water, and because our kayak kept going in the opposite direction of where we wanted it to go. I was in the front and I never got wet, but I'm sure she did in the back because I know I was splashing water from my paddle as I freestyled it the way the instructor recommended. I was concerned about not be able to lift my arms the next day, but none of us were sore. 

We made it to the island in about twenty five minutes and spent the rest of our time exploring, swimming, and shelling. I have a huge Rubbermaid container of shells at The Condo that my mother had collected over the years, and I kept telling the kids not to bring any back as I would give them shells, but I have to admit that the shells on this island were pretty cool.

Carson: "Oh, my gosh, there is an animal in this shell!"

Me: "All shells have animals in them."

Jaimee: "Wait. What? Shells have animals in them?"

We did the two hour kayak trip only because I thought that would tire us out. Pfft. Next time I'm taking the four hour trip and hanging out at the island. Some people brought lunches and had a picnic. We had to head back, but we spent several minutes swimming and exploring the sand bar on the way back.

After lunch we went down the causeway to the State Park. I hadn't been there in years, but what I remembered was that it was very rocky and not that great of a beach. So many people love it and I thought since we were here and since they wanted to beach it some more it would be a good spot.

Holy Rocks! You cannot be on this beach without some sort of shoe. The pile in the picture above was next to where I was sitting. Everywhere we went there were rocks, or I suppose I should say stones. It reminded me of my time on Rocky Point Beach in Mexico. The rocks went all the way out as far as I walked into the water. I could not get away from rocks. Wyatt cut his foot on one. Carson kept throwing the rocks. Finally Darcy and the boys set off to find somewhere that wasn't as rocky, and down the beach to the left of us was the Pet Beach. No rocks. How is that possible?

The rest of the beach day turned out great. We sunned and swam. Sandcastles were built. The boys played for hours behind us in a makeshift stream. Madison, Darcy and Shad slept.

It was a great day and one that I will recreate at the next family Christmas gathering, weather permitting. The next day's plans were to head to Adventure Island, a waterpark in Tampa, but as I climbed into bed that night full of sand, lotion, and covered from head to toe in sunburn I wasn't sure that I would be able to make it. Turned out everyone else thought the same and so one day of the break was spent indoors.

Out of the mouths of babes

Me: "Sailor is really taking great care with that henna tattoo of hers. She is timing herself and following the directions to clean it every five minutes."

Jaimee: "I think she understands the value of money unlike my own kids. My own kids are so use to getting everything they want and I know that is my fault, but still you would think they would pay attention to prices and stuff."

Fast forward to the next day where we rented kayaks and paddled out into the gulf to an island where we looked for seashells and starfish.

Wyatt: "Mom, mom, look what I got!"

Wyatt: "I found you a sponge. For FREE!"

Me: "And here you didn't think your kids knew the value of money."

Apparently that sponge movie and the subsequent sponge shop didn't go over Wyatt's head after all.

Spring Break 2015 - midpoint

I wish that I could remember everything that has happened on Spring Break 2015 because seriously, these kids in my family (my cousin on my dad's side) have said and done some hilarious things.

Lily: "Carson, you're fixing us breakfast tomorrow and bringing to it to us in our bed."

Carson: "Yeah, good luck with that. I'll fix you poop is what I'll fix you. And if you don't like that then don't tell me to fix you breakfast."

Of course, I remember the poop funny. We were walking back from a day at a State Park beach and we were sunburned and full of sand and happiness and this conversation occurred right behind me, and I laughed the rest of the night. Because Carson's inflection was spot on. And because it was poop.

This week the weather has been everything we love about Florida. My family, Shad, Jaimee and their three children, Lily, Carson, and Wyatt, and Lily's friend Sailor, have been at The Condo. They Googled things to do and my girls and I tagged along as freeloaders guides. Guides who clearly did not know how to put on sunscreen correctly because some burn happened along the way.

Day two Jaimee hauled us all up to the sponge docks in Tarpon Springs, or as Jaimee kept referring to it: Tar-Pon Springs. Shad parked and we got out to walk the strip and learn about sponge diving. Only the docks are full of small shops selling tourist items and sponges and homemade candles and homemade soaps so the very first shop we tried to pass...well, it wasn't happening. In went the girls and the younger boys. Shad and I looked at each other and counted slowly to ten and out came the boys. We left the girls and continued walking toward the marina where we were reoped enticed in to seeing a movie about sponge diving.

In all fairness it probably would have been an interesting movie if someone would take the time to modernize it into this century and if we had seen it from the beginning. We got there in time to learn about the different types of sponges, but before being led out of the "theater" and into a shop where we learned that sponges, not matter the shape, are damn expensive.

From there we went to the docks and watched the boats come in with their sponge hauls. Shad inquired about how the sponges turned colors and we were directed to this pile of sponges that had been sitting out for two days. "We bleach the sponges," we were told. "This pile is heading off now to begin that process." So we sat and watched the Greek men load the spongs on this truck. I was not sure that all of these nets of sponges would make it on the truck, but they did.

Once we met up with the shoppers we took advantage of the Greek food. I was sorry Madison was not with us (she was spending her break studying for her upcoming IB boards) because she and I love Greek food and Darcy, who was me, ordered chicken fingers. Chicken fingers! Shades of her cousin Austin. At least the Indiana kids ordered seafood!

The rest of the visit was more shops and more boats. Luckily for Shad they had this there:

Despite all of the entering of shops we left there with minimal purchases. We traveled to Clearwater Beach and finished off the day lounging in the sun, playing beach volleyball, building giant holes, and burying Darcy.

The girls walked the pier and got henna tattoos. The boys frolicked in the gulf . Shad slept and Jaimie and I talked and talked and talked; about important life decisions, politics, and world poverty. And then we watched the sun set and hiked to our local beach pizza place to wind up the day. 

It wasn't until we got back to our places that we discovered we should work a tad harder at applying the sunscreen. Tomorrow.