Forgetfulness

Apparently, dealing with memory lapses is a sign that one is growing older. I must be growing older, because about forty-five minutes into our eleven hour drive to our recent family reunion, I had an episode.

I realized that I had forgotten "the Book", my jackpot genealogy purchase from Germany. I wanted to bring it for multiple purposes. I wanted to have it for the reunion, since this particular branch of the family also descended from the town on my visit in May. I also had planned on showing the book to the acquisition librarian at the local genealogy library, thinking that they might be interested in purchasing a copy.

But most importantly, I was going to bring the book to the reunion to give it to my mother, so that she could bring it back home with her and give it to the genealogist in the family. It seemed way too important to put in the mail, even with insurance.

So there I was, almost an hour away from home, wondering if it was worth it to return. At first, we decided to keep going, but I kept obsessing and my honey announced that he was turning around at the next opportunity.

By the time we stopped for gas, made it home, went upstairs and got the book and were back in the car to start over, two hours had passed. My honey never complained.

Just one of the many reasons I love him, as we grow older and more forgetful together!

Middle of the Week Holiday

I'm taking the day off, sleeping and reading on my couch. Maybe I'll even go swimming.

See you tomorrow.

Returning Deja Vu

Back home yesterday evening after eleven hours in the car. Boredom, folk music and heavy rain punctuated the trip. The best decision we made was to get an automatic toll pass for the roads. The cost for the tolls with a responder inside your car is half the cash price. But rolling past all the toll booths that we used to have to stop at? Priceless!

Since I have traveled so much this year I feel I have written the returning blog post multiple times. And I am correct. For a glimpse into how I am feeling you could read Home Again from last August, or Back Home Again from December, or even Recovery from November. Hmm, repetition, never good.

On the other hand, travelling never gets old. And the chance to hang out with cousins, visit cemeteries and eat fresh sweet corn is one I'll take every time. Can't wait for the "big" reunion next year!

PS Someone asked me what the difference between this reunion and the "big" reunion was. The answer? About 300 people. That's a big family!

Summer School

Last night someone asked me when my school started. Here is what I answered, word for word:

"Well, I have a half day training next Monday the 11th, then full day workshops on the 12th and 13th. My department has a meeting all day on Thursday the 21st and I think I'm supposed to go in for two hours on the 22nd. But officially, teacher work days start on Monday the 27th."

I'm hoping all that training will help prepare me for the first day of school the day after the Labor Day holiday. I'm learning about iPads, co-teaching, reader's and writer's workshop for the middle school, and many other things I don't even know about yet.

So it turns out even when I'm not working at summer school, I still have to attend summer school.

Family Reunions

It's important to attend these semi-regular gatherings. You'll see lots of relatives, some close and some distant. You'll tease and be teased. And at least one person will call you by name, give you a big hug and tell you how happy they are to see you,  all while you have no idea who they are.

The recent reunion I attended was a blast! I couldn't play in the golf scramble, but I did talk and talk and talk with many, many cousins. And I learned some things I hadn't known about our family.

It turns out that my grandpa is an honoree in the local bowling hall of fame. When he was alive, he ran a variety of bowling alleys and was always an excellent bowler. His nieces, nephews, grand-nieces and grand-nephews still call out his name in one particular bowling situation.

Apparently, Grandpa was convinced that if a split is bowled in the lane next to yours, chances are good you will also bowl a split.

He persuaded everyone else of this fact, so they refuse to bowl until the nearby split is clear. If a bowler is not paying attention and doesn't realize that there is a split next door, a cry of "Uncle Art" is raised by more attentive team members and the bowler slowly backs away from the approach, thereby preventing the split by association.

Grandpa lives on!

Saturday Photo

This weekend you're getting a Saturday photo instead of a Sunday one.

Reflections of Century City architecture

Klutz

So I have sprained my middle finger (yes, that one) and it is hard to type. The splint looks a little like this one, although mine is longer. Luckily, if I'm wearing the splint, the sprain doesn't hurt.

How did I do it? I have no idea. I am easily injured, much to my dismay, but the only activity that could have caused it was that I went to the gym for a session with a trainer on weights. No trauma, just silly wear and tear.

So, I'll work on getting the hang of touch typing with only nine fingers better tomorrow, but this is all you're getting at the moment.