Vacay Week 2

Obviously I'm really behind.

And now I'm trying to catch up.

I'll probably leave out a lot of stuff.

Either because my fingers are tired of typing or more likely, I've simply forgotten.


Week 2 in Ogden Utah:

Pedro's still in Arky working. The kids and I are starting to miss him. So we try even harder to stay busy.

I took the kids down to Syracuse to visit a childhood friend. Thinking about it now...I've known her for 20 years. We had a good visit and our kids played well together.

My mom took me to see her reflexologist. I learned so much from her. I found out why I've had such problems having enough energy to get through the day. So I've made some changes and I've been feeling a whole lot better ever since.

And my favorite part of the week was...going to a nature park. In my head I was thinking it was going to be nicely paved sidewalks with pretty plants and flowers. Um, no. Not even close. The first part of it was cool. They had a birdhouse contest, so there were all sorts of birdhouses made out of anything and everything. It was so cool! And then we went on to the next part.

It was a dirt path carved through...well, all the stuff that naturally grows in Utah. Not flowers. Not pretty plants. No, it was my worst enemy. Okay, maybe not my worst enemy, but close enough. Russian olive trees. I'm really allergic to those. I found that out when I was 15 and my eyes swelled up so bad that I couldn't see, and scared the pants off the doctor who saw me. Ahh, memories. So I avoided those like the plague. And then there was the mud. Lots of it. And with the mud came giant mosquitoes. We were attacked. Annaleise got it the worst. We turned around and high tailed it out of there as fast as we could. Annaleise was screaming and crying the whole way. Eric was dawdling, wondering why we were all acting like crazy people. I was yelling at Eric to hurry up, carrying Bri, trying to keep the mosquitoes off the 3 of us.

We counted all the bug bites everyone had. Annaleise won by a landslide. I can't remember the number, but up in the teens. We tried to make it better with some ice cream treats. She told us for the next month that she never, ever, EVER wanted to go back there.

But that's the stuff that memories are made out of. Good or bad, these are the stories that just stick around.