Travelin' man

I remain convinced that JFK is the epitome of places I never, ever wish to visit ever again.  I am sure that when Satan found out just how bad JFK is, he decided to add another level of Hell to try and beat the JFK experience for horribleness.  And, while I don't particularly love any airport, JFK wins the 'worstest' in my book.

I am not a great traveler.  Landing makes me nervous.  I worry about time for transfers, keeping track of kids, luggage, tickets and passports.  I worry, I fret, and I make myself nervous.

 This kid, on the other hand, is a GREAT traveler.   Combine his natural tendency for enthusiasm with big planes, and you have a recipe for a perfectly happy guy.  He is the one happily snoring in the back seat of Dad's car while I fret about making it through security in time to make our flight.   He relishes the chance to choose whatever beverage he wishes in flight.   When we have to walk the entire length of the airport twice to go through passport control, customs, claim our baggage, re-check our baggage, go to the new terminal, go through security again and find dinner before our next flight he is thrilled to walk on the people movers, happy beyond belief to push the rolling suitcase, and eager to have dinner at Wendy's.

And, while his enthusiasm for describing just exactly how quickly the ground was coming up towards us on landing didn't calm my anxiety, his cheerful disposition and passion for anything transportation related made the trip back to the states much more enjoyable.

On this trip his energy is what kept me going.

Friday, 30 March 2012

Worth the travel

Noah and I spent the last week of March in Modesto.  The weather was rainy--but still sunnier than Germany--the company was excellent and the trees and flowers were lovely.  Even the 24 hours of travel to get there was worth it after we had recovered for a day or two.  I spent time with my family, Noah enjoyed the company of his cousins and the fun of the trampoline and we both soaked up the sun.   I even got to take a stroll around the block with Grandpa and we talked about his time in Germany, some 60+ years ago.

I realized that being with my siblings, without the responsibility of all my kids, let me really just live in the moment and enjoy their company.  I still made meals and cleaned up, but since it wasn't my 'job' it didn't stress me out at all.  And, strange to say, the commute up to Davis and back was one of my favorite times with my sibs.  We sang and teased each other and talked about pouring out an In-n-out shake for Grandma (Hyrum's argument being that we needed to pour it out into his mouth since wasting the shake would offend Grandma.)

Even though the purpose behind the trip was to attend Grandma's funeral, the week ended up being more of a celebration than anything else.  While the funeral was rightly somber and I certainly shed my share of tears, the gathering of beloved cousins, aunts, uncles, and Grandpa still brought happiness.   Grandma loved so much to see us all gather together, and the shared remembrances at the service brought us even closer together.

Sometimes I feel really spoiled belonging to my family.  It's not like I did anything to deserve them!

Twins

I've gotten used to the fact that my family all looks fairly similar.  After all, I will always be the 'short' one due to everyone else being about a foot taller than me, so I can be unique.  (special, just like everyone else!)  What I have consistently failed to realize is that to anyone outside the family some of us are virtually indistinguishable.  

In church with my sister Linnea, we were sitting behind a friend with her 2 little girls.  One of the girls was staring back at us, going from Linnea, to me, back to Linnea with a look of concentration furrowing her brows.  The reason for her scrutiny became apparent when she stage-whispered to her sister:  "They're the SAME!"  Linnea maintained her poker face, while I dissolved in laughter as the two little ones continued to stare at us freaks.  It has continued to amuse me that we are each others doppelgänger.  I am easily amused.  


The question remains, which of us is the evil twin?  

when I was in Prague . . .

We saw King Wenceslas, who was actually just a duke
They pronounce his name more like venseslaf

All the metro stops have these walls.
 In unrelated news, Linnea is now watching Doctor Who.  

Found the castle

saw some dubious abs

Got lost

Saw cubist architecture

and the world's only cubist lamppost

failed to get anything interesting in the background

I am afraid that I am becoming one of those people who always say things like: 'when I was in Prague' or" 'oh yes, the leather market in Florence was the best!'  Linnea mocked me regularly for this habit and I am trying to change my ways, but am having very little success.  At least I had someone fun to share this trip with!

The metro system in Prague is absolutely wonderful, you can get pretty much anywhere, assuming you have an excellent sense of direction and don't get lost when you come out at the surface.  Not that we spent most of our time lost, but. . .    Let's just say that only the presence of really drunk lost people made us feel better about our lack of navigation skills.  Next time bring a compass!

About those drunk folks; Prague fills up on the weekends with people in search of cheap beer.  Add St Patrick's day and we were witness to a lot of loutish and loudly drunken people.  I'm assuming this is the reason the plazas smelled of sick and urine.  It didn't stop us from enjoying ourselves, but it certainly didn't add anything!

Did you know Prague has cubist architecture?  Me, neither.  I didn't know there was such a thing as cubist architecture!  We went in search of the 'Black Madonna' which is a cubist building, only to get lost.  Picture Linnea and Joy looking in frustration down at the map, saying: 'It should be right here!' and then turning slowly around. . . . . oh.   It's not as impressive as the name makes it sound. 

My favorite was the Alphonse Mucha museum.   And going into the creative design museum to use the restrooms and being treated to an awesome view of the Jewish cemetery.  (In some very bad planning, we went to the Jewish quarter on Saturday.) 

I brought home a garnet necklace and earrings.  I wear them every day so that when someone comments on them I can say:  "Oh these?  I bought these when I was in Prague!"