Kenz has a show; I pull the juicer out

Granted, the two aren't of the same caliber. Kenz has spent months working on her piece, organizing the show, moving materials and pieces, and enduring the grief that other, disorganized students have thrown at her. All I did was pull the juicer off the shelf again. 

Much like last week, this one has been relatively unremarkable. I've come to believe that's not necessarily a bad thing. We need a few unremarkable weeks here and there. 

For Christmas, Whitney got me a month's membership to CrossFit Central London. She's been doing CrossFit for several months, knew that I had tried it (unsuccessfully) solo several years ago, and thought it'd be a good idea for me to try again. 

For those of you who aren't familiar with CrossFit, my summary : CrossFit is a hive-minded community that subscribes to a fitness ideology with devout faith. The overarching idea is that fitness should be general, not specific. They allow results to do more talking than their mouths. It's likely the hardest fitness regimen I've ever encountered. You can learn more on your own if you're interested. 

In order for me to become a 'member', however, I had to complete a foundations course. From 1pm-6pm on Saturday and Sunday, I was at the gym, learning about lifting techniques, nutrition, safety, and (on my own, somewhat anthropologically) about the culture. By Sunday night, I was nearly immobile from the lactic acid in my (long forgotten) muscles. 

I FaceTime'd with Whitney on Saturday night in order to share my experience (and pain):

She got a kick out of how sore I was

She happened to be with her friend, Sara. Sara's dog had just finished rolling in the stuff that dogs like to roll in. As a result, a bath was in order.

I won't go too deep into my experience with the gym. I've always been somewhat annoyed with people who go on and on about their workout routine, so I'll spare you. I will say, however, that I've chosen to do the early morning classes, three days a week. Early being 6am. I wake at 4:45 in order to get there on time. It's been, surprisingly, not that bad. However, it's been one week. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. 

Upon returning to our home on Saturday night, Kenz and I found that the power had gone out in our building. Power outages are a nuisance for anyone, sure, but it was especially bad for us considering the fact that we have an electronic gate along the perimeter of the parking lot. 

We stood there, dumbfounded, laughing to ourselves, wondering what to do. We haven't made friends with anyone else in the building (NOT OUR FAULT, we always say 'hi' to people! Damn British, too polite to talk to anyone), so we had no one to call. Not as if they could've done anything anyway. After five minutes of staring at the gate, mildly panicking, punching the code in despite knowing it wouldn't work, getting frustrated and planning an angry monologue in my head (to be delivered to the building manager), and trying to pry the gate open, Kenz suggested I lift it off it's roller/track. Boom; solution; problem solved.

The mild snow could've been the culprit:

I'll reiterate that it's cool to live in a city that doesn't require us to have a car. However, when you don't have a car, you gain an entirely new set of pet peeves, one of which is walking on a sidewalk covered in a snow/slush/ice mixture. Walking speed is cut in half because your push-off foot is always slipping right at the very moment you need maximum momentum. Step, slip, step, slip, step, slip. All the way to the grocery store. All the way home. All the way to the bus stop. Immediately after exiting the bus. For someone like me, who finds himself counting steps, cracks, potholes, etc. this kind of walking obstruction drives me mad. 

I'm not complaining as much as I am trying to give you an idea of what it's like. I mean, you're reading this to get an idea of our lives here in London, right? 

I'd put the juicer up in order to prepare for Friendsgiving. We didn't have the space in our kitchen to keep it there while we were prepping all that food. But, then, the juicer began to earn 'fixture' status on the top of our bookcase. You know the drill: you get something you think you'll use a whole bunch, you're really excited when it shows up at the house, you swear to everyone how cool it is, that you're going to use it so much, and then you find out how much of a hassle it is to set up, use, and break down. You give it the college try for a few days or weeks, and then something happens that causes you to hide it away somewhere. A month later, you notice it sitting there, all alone, and think to yourself, "I really need to get that out again," because you know that if you don't do so in the next few days or weeks, it'll be gone forever. 

That's where I was at with the juicer. To her credit, Kenz hadn't said a word about it. She thought it was ludicrous that I'd purchased it in the first place (at least I used a gift card!). She probably knows the drill better than I do - just the other side of the drill. She's always the one who'll be the recipient of my soliloquies, politely nodding her head as I extoll the virtues of whatever purchase I've just made. 

However, when we were at the grocery store two weeks ago, I bought two bags of spinach. Kenz looked at me sideways, as if to say, "you hate spinach - what are you doing buying all this spinach?" I knew the look and preemptively uttered, "it's for the juicer," knowing, in my head, that it was time to pull it back out - I was not going to be defeated by this damn juicer. 

A week passed and I'd forgotten about the spinach. I was out on Monday, grocery shopping for the week when I saw more bags of spinach. 

"I should get more spinach. I don't remember seeing it in the fridge. Maybe Kenz used it while I wasn't at home."

I bought two more bags (for the juicer), brought them home, and found the existing two bags in that drawer I never open. Shit.

I knew that if she came home to four bags of spinach, Kenz wouldn't be able to hold her tongue. Refusing to lose this battle, I set to making some juice. 

2 bags of spinach, 3 apples, and 1 grapefruit (don't ask - it was there - it was another thing I'd bought for the juicer)

Was it good? Nope. Do I still have two bags of spinach in the fridge? Yup.

In fact, after I (stupidly) drank both glasses, back-to-back, while standing in the kitchen, immediately after making it, I felt sick. I had to sit down.

At least the juicer's back out!

Tuesday night was Kenz's night for a private viewing. There were so many exhibits that the students had to split into two groups. The first got to invite friends and family on Monday night and the second group on Tuesday.

It was great to, once again, see Kenz in her element. She ran into friends as we strolled through the basement of the Shoreditch Town Hall. They'd stop and chat, she'd introduce me, they'd discuss favorites, and we'd move on. There were so many exhibits that it took us nearly two hours to get through the whole show.

It's fun to see Kenz proud of herself (as she should be).

Discussing art

Again, I can't explain her installation. I asked her what it was about and she meandered through a few different things that went directly over my head. Essentially, she reconstructed images, from memory, of the things that stood out to her while travelling through France and Spain with her sister last year. She used no photographs and built everything in the wood shop (having to learn/teach herself some new techniques along the way).

Her floodlight, however, made it impossible for me to take a good photo (something about the piece had to do with shadows, FYI, thus the light).

Like last year, I saw a lot of stuff that had me thinking cynically. I took a picture of the one below, trying to act as if I was just photographing the room. Nope. I just wanted to get this pink, brainlike blob in a picture:

Art

All in all, it was a fantastic event. Kenz has definitely come a long way in her time at Camberwell. She's just passed the halfway point - three more semesters and she'll have this degree. It's damn cool.

Side note: I cooked swordfish for the first time.

It was much more yum than I expected it to be.

That's it for this week. Thanks for reading! Have a great weekend!

Poor quality, but you get the idea.

Life as usual

It's hard to follow the previous post. We did a bunch of cool stuff while we were visiting the States - we've not done nearly enough cool stuff since being back.

In fact, this week has been a series of work-filled days that bleed much deeper into the night than we're used to. Both of us have found ourselves at the computer and books until 10 or 11pm. Breakfast has been the only time we've had to hang and laugh at each other.

If it's cold outside, it's cold inside. 

She has spent the entire week finalizing her installment for next week's art show. Late last year, she got voted (unwillingly) to be one of the steering committee members for this show (that's what happens when you're a bit older and a lot more responsible than your classmates). As a result, she's been commuting back and forth between Camberwell and the Shoreditch Town Hall where the show will take place. She and the other committee members are 'curating' the show this year. Essentially, instead of having one room for all the painters, one for all the illustrators, another for sculptors, etc. they're integrating all the disciplines into a cohesive gallery. I think there's about 120 exhibits to organize.

Translated: she's been doing a lot of heavy lifting this week, transporting exhibit materials across town and then moving them around this building. I don't envy her.

The show is next week, so I hope to have several pictures in the near future. In the meantime, this is what Kenz sent me yesterday:

I can't begin to explain it because I don't have the requisite understanding. I know it's her installment, that it has taken a lot of hard work, that she built the entire thing, but that's about it. Feel free to email her questions. Maybe she'll get on the blog to write about it.

(Mildly) Interestingly enough, I was at the Shoreditch Town Hall last week as well. My friend co-directs a theatre company in town, and they were having a preview of upcoming projects. The night was filled with music, performance art, half finished scripts, coffee, tea, and snacks.

Usually, I'm not one to publicize my attendance at these things for fear of being a cliche. Call it a lasting vestige of my southern roots. The truth of it is that London hasn't changed me into someone who would go to an event like this - it's just that these events happen more often in this city than, say, Knoxville...

I didn't take too many pictures, and these don't really do it justice.

This guy came out for a performance art piece in drag, holding a bag of dirt and a guitar. I didn't know what to think. Usually with performance art pieces, I get the sense I'm watching someone simply trying to provoke the crowd. I was about to confirm that assumption as this guy started, but he quickly got into the act, and it was, in fact, quite good. Stage presence really makes a difference in this genre.

I also got to see a rehearsed table read of a short one act that my friend, Katharine, wrote. It was impressive and inspiring at the same time.

I did get to reconnect with a few London friends and walk around town.

The Waterloo IMAX is hype for Les Mis

People are bringing their pets to coffee shops

And coffee shops are taking the 'local' thing to the next level

 I was surprised to find remnants of Ai Wei Wei's Sunflower Seeds exhibit for sale in the coffee shop.

Doppelgangers

Central London: where to go for the latest in neon technology

Comic book store! 

I stopped this stranger on the street, asking him if I could photograph his shirt. 

 I found two new Invader pieces while walking around this week as well.

The Drysdale Street piece was found while Kenz and I were on our way to the Viet Grill on Kingsland Road. Known as 'Pho Mile', this stretch of road has countless Vietnamese restaurants, all yummy, and all different from the next. The only other time I've had really good Vietnamese food was at Vietnam Palace in Philadelphia (my roommate was Vietnamese and introduced me to the delights of Pho at the palace). After leaving Philly, though, I'd forgotten entirely about this type of food. It wasn't until Kenz and I moved here did I remember that it's delicious.

Afterward, we tried to go see a movie. We walked to four different theatres. Every single one had sold out. Four theatres. Sold out. Cold and wet from the rain, we went home, disgruntled, wondering why there were so many people out on a Saturday night.

Delightful construction update:

This week, the cement paths were being put together. In order for that to happen, each square had to be cut with a gasoline-powered buzzsaw. Beginning at 7:30am each morning the saws would begin, at maximum decibel level, and maintain throughout the day. The intense sound was mitigated by the oh-so-wonderful gasoline aroma drifting through the windows for eight hours at a time.

It's a pleasure to work from home.

Yesterday I noticed something strange. It was silence. They must be finished, I thought. Then, while standing at my desk, a cloud of steam caught my eye. I peered outside the window to see a mammoth pile of asphalt being dumped. As I realized they were just prepping for the next round of sidewalks, the smell crept inside our flat.

I couldn't decide which was worse: the smell of gasoline or that of asphalt.

Today it's snowing. However, the work continues.

When we were viewing this flat, I asked the realtor when the construction was projected to finish.

"Oh, probably three or four more months," he lied.

February will be a year that we've lived here. I've begun to wonder if they'll finish these apartment blocks before we move out. Part of me yearns for the first Saturday they're finished. The thought of sleeping past 7:30am on a weekend morning is something I've long since surrendered, but would welcome with open arms if it were to come.

With our luck, though, the people who move into these apartments will be louder than the construction.

I say our luck, but it's really Kenz's luck. Now that we're married, she reminds me that everything is us and ours. The good comes with the bad, so now I've got bad luck, too.

At least it won't smell like gasoline anymore. I hope.

For those of you in Tennessee, drive safe! Kenz's uncle, Bobby, just sent us a picture from yesterday:

"My 5 minute drive home last night (which took 45 minutes)."

Thanks for reading! Have a great weekend!

Home for the holidays.

Should I welcome you back to the blog, or should I be welcoming myself back? I can't decide.

Either way, we're in London. Both Kenz and I are still trying to recover from jet lag. I didn't sleep a wink as we flew over the Atlantic. I guess the upside was being able to get my money's worth out of the in-flight entertainment.

Before we left, Kenz and I made it out to the Winter Wonderland for the second year in a row. Those of you who missed last year's post, the Winter Wonderland is similar to a state fair. The only difference is that it's Christmas themed. We love a good roller coaster, carnival food, and holiday decorations; the Winter Wonderland is a great way for us to kick off the holiday season.

Whereas we wound up having a good time, we did have a false start:

Saturdays are 'date night' for us. We (I) decided that going to the Winter Wonderland for date night would be a great idea. We'd head out there around 6pm, get some festival food, walk around, ride rides, do some Xmas shopping, etc. Honestly, it seemed like a great idea.

I forgot, however, that we live in a city of millions.

We arrived hungry. The lines for each of the food stalls was about fifteen deep, but it didn't matter because the mass of foot traffic didn't allow us to stop along the sides. We just had to walk with the flow. Kenz and I were both miserable, yet too scared to call it off. This was date night. This was the Winter Wonderland. We'd had such a good time last year. We were so excited for this year.

After twenty minutes of getting bumped around, seeing no end in sight to the crowds, and being quite hungry, we bailed.

"Let's just get some food," Kenz said in a tone that I've come to know as 'I sound polite, but this isn't a suggestion...'

We exited Hyde park.

"There's a cool restaurant up the road a bit. Let's just walk to it," I said, trying to quickly give hope to Kenz. We'd have food in just a few minutes...we could still salvage the night.

Two hours and a cab ride later, we were finally resentment-eating at a restaurant on the other side of town. Date night had not gone as planned. In fact, date night had not gone at all.

However, three days later we returned to find a nearly unpopulated Winter Wonderland. We didn't wait in line for a damn thing:

There were several stages for bands. This one was a 70's cover band.

I forced Kenz to pose with statues.

Creepy, no?

Rockabilly band

Fashion

Rollercoasters!

Kenz ordered fries just so she could use the mayo udder.

The coaster had its own camera. We knew it was coming, so we tried to pose.

We bought a few keychains for stocking stuffers...

I also participated in the first round of a match play disc golf competition before we left. The two most populated clubs, Croydon and Quarry Park, have been doing this for years. First leg is at our home course, second is up in Quarry Park. I'm not sure that it was, but it felt like the coldest day I'd ever played disc golf.

T-shirt, long sleeve t, fleece hoodie, rain jacket, and a fleece hat. And a beard. Still cold. 

8am player's meeting.

Lastly, just before we left, we got a new mattress thanks to my sister and brother-in-law, Kelly and Chris. Belated wedding gifts are pretty awesome. Thanks, y'all!

It arrived rolled up. Who knew?

Having finished in London for the season, we prepped for a return to Knoxville, TN. As usual, we had to get up at the butt crack of dawn for our flight.

Yet another 4:30am wake-up

We arrived without incident to the many creature comforts we'd been pining for: Food, Friends, and Family.

Patti, Pauline, and Charlie met us on arrival.

Patti had Petro's waiting for us at the house! Tastes better than it looks.

Cap'n Crunch, Bagel Bites, and Pawley's Island pimento cheese! Look at the JOY in Kenz's face.

Whitney was babysitting a pup. That brought the total to SEVEN dogs in the house for a night.

Nala and the pup

Apollo and Willow

Dinner with The Ashburns

They didn't realize how big a 'large' was...

My friend, Brian, had undergone shoulder surgery the day before our arrival. He was out of commission for about two weeks. In the meantime, he loaned me his car to scoot around town.

Poor guy was struggling

Gracie kept watch and dispensed meds. 

Brandon, Robert, and Steven

A thrilled Knoxville crew.

They swore they were excited to see me

Before the final holiday shopping/visiting spree began in earnest, a few of us travelled down to Chattanooga for a birthday party. Lots of friends converged on the town from Knoxville and Alabama.

Matthew in the back; Robert driving like a maniac.

JSoules

Dustin, Brian, and Kimberly

JSoules, Hyram, and Dustin

Me, Emily, Adam, Allen, and Jessica (the birthday girl!)

Naturally, Kenz couldn't resist getting sick while on vacation. Asthma + Allergies + Smoking + Bronchitis = Two trips to the walk-in clinic and One trip to the ER.

Round One at the walk-in clinic

 (I snapped a photo at the ER, but I'm not going to push my luck by including it. It wasn't flattering.)

How do you know you're in the Bible Belt? Just check the books in the waiting room of the walk-in clinic!

Once most of her illness had cleared, we made our way out into town to see the sights, shop for gifts, and visit more folks.

We happened upon a type of critical mass downtown one evening. Knoxvillians were out in the hundreds, all riding bicycles and wearing Christmas lights. People were in holiday costume and there were several riding unique cycles. After meeting in Market Square, they had a parade down Gay street that lasted over ten minutes. I know this because we saw them in Market Square, kept our distance, and then arrived to cross Gay street at the very same moment they approached. At first, we smiled, waited patiently, and took a few photographs. Then, after the first five minutes, the crowd began to blend together and we lost a bit of interest. After another five minutes, we were relieved it was over. I felt bad for being annoyed.

Market Square (this is about 1/3 of the people)

For the first time in my life, I thought, "these people just want attention." A little part of me died; I must be getting old.

We reveled in the - if not Knoxvillian - at least American sights while bouncing around town.

Food on rollers: a delicacy in many regions.

I'm not even sure what ideology this magnet represents

West Town Mall Segway Cops

Mall kiosk advertising

The kiosk employee threatened to make me delete this photo, but acquiesced when she saw that it was only capturing the irony, not the merchandise...

Who knew there were so many pet names for grandparents?

SANTA!

Creepy or the Creepiest?

Kenz and I both giggled at this like schoolchildren. 

There were countless cars with antlers and a Rudolf nose on them. Too many to photograph.

On our way over to Dad and Mel's house for dinner, we stopped by to check out the progress of Kara and Jerry's home. As luck would have it, Jerry was there, checking it out himself! He gave us the grand tour.

Surprise photo!

Above the door, Jerry had written, "Roger, I need a taller door here."

Jerry keeps leftover beer from the wedding in the house's fridge. Slick move.

We got to spend time at Dad's, recommending movies and TV boxed sets to watch. Dad had recently undergone cataract surgery and wasn't allowed to read. In an effort to prevent himself from going crazy, he'd begun watching more television. I took the initiative to purchase a miniseries for them, but, alas, they had already seen it! Ah well...

Obligatory selfie

I wound up spending too much time in the mall during the visit. Steven, Robert, and I decided to get our annual holiday photo booth picture and play some Dance Dance Revolution in the arcade. We're not too old for that, are we?

Steven put Rob and I to shame

We went back to play video games with Steven's brother, Phillip, at the end of the night.

After Brian had recovered enough to get out of the house, Craig, Derrick, and I met him for lunch. Regular Friday lunch at Lenny's.

Derrick sporting his new cap

Buncha dudes

Poor Brian is going to be in that sling for what will surely feel like twenty years

Craig got to show off his new t-shirt.

The Eve of Christmas Eve had me sitting with the sun that brings light to all Christmas Joy: my sister, Kara, who happened to be wearing this headband. Alone. Inside her own house. As she was wrapping presents. Because that's what you do when you're awesome.

Luckily for us, McKenzie's family has always done their traditional holiday festivities on Christmas Eve. Mom and Tom have always done festivities on Christmas day. Aside from the six hour drive on Christmas day, it works out quite well.

In fact, the drive isn't so bad. I'm sure you can imagine how a nice long drive, filled with peace and quiet, is a welcome respite during the holiday.

The Gibson's tree

At the risk of not getting the tone (and, possibly, some of the 'facts') of this story right:

From what I can understand, Patti had decided she wanted a rotisserie turkey for Christmas dinner. She and Michael had gone out and purchased a rotisserie add-on for their grill in preparation for the dinner.

Let me back up: Michael and Patti are, as I have said before, both fabulous cooks. They are constantly making food for us to eat. It's an absolute joy to be in their home. However, a hybrid of respect and I-haven't-been-in-the-family-long-enough-fear usually leaves me taking a back seat in the kitchen. I don't know where all the utensils are, I've still got a mild case of "stay out of the father-in-law's way"(especially in his kitchen), and, frankly, I'm not that good a cook in the first place. So, I usually just try and keep them company while they're cooking. From a distance.

Well, there we were, on Christmas Eve, at 12:35pm, and Michael says he wants to get the Turkey on the rotisserie by 1pm. Sounds good to me, I think. Then he says, "I'm just going to take a shower first."

I take a look at Patti. Then Kenz. Feeling boisterous, I reply, "I've never seen you get ready in less than half an hour!"

He smirks, gives me a look that could've been either good one or shut your mouth and walks off.

At 12:55, he returns to the kitchen and employs my help. Patti, knowing better, exits the room. Kenz has long since returned to her puzzle.

"I can't seem to find any instructions for how to truss the turkey in the instruction manual," he muttered, flipping through the newly-opened document. "Let's just get this thing ready; we gotta get it on there by 1. I don't wanna be waiting till 8 o'clock to eat."

Michael never follows a recipe. Even if someone else has, he'll add a little extra to it. He went through his entire spice cabinet for the turkey. It was awesome to watch (and eat).

Kenz had brined the turkey the night before. She woke up to find that orange peels had been added during the night...

So, Michael and I alternate between holding the turkey and tying the turkey. Both of us wanting to save  the other's face, we nonverbally communicated as we struggled to wrap the bird. We repeated the same behavior while trying to shove the metal rod through the carcass. We uttered half-finished sentences and grunts as we positioned the turkey, unbalanced, on the rod.

I wish I had a photograph of the result. It wasn't pretty.

After trying (and failing) to get it to spin on the grill, we realized we'd have to bring it back inside and re-'stick' it. Patti had returned. She and Michael bickered and pushed each others' buttons with the type of efficacy that only comes with decades of marriage. I stood there, not knowing what to do.

We tried (and failed) again.

More bickering; more buttons pushed. It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas began playing in my head.

Then, out of nowhere, as Michael returned to the instruction manual, I remembered the Internet has all the answers (and had the courage to try and take the driver's seat in Michael's kitchen). I googled 'truss and rotisserie a turkey' and, within thirty seconds, Michael and I were watching a how-to video. Five minutes after that, we had the most perfectly trussed turkey spinning on the grill!

Kenz now claims that they bought this entirely new grill for the rotisserie. Either way, Michael has FOUR grills out back.

Aunt Kathy and Uncle Bob showed up. Whitney even dressed Nala up for the occasion. Dinner was ready; it was time to get down to business. 

Note the Thanksgiving stuffing that I made for the night

My first (of two) plates. 

Bob, Kathy, and Patti

The dogs were hoping for droppings

Nala in her Christmas coat

Post-dinner gifts!

Bailey, the smaller of the two Westies, is Michael's dog. She goes everywhere with him. She helped him open gifts.

Uncle Bob and Aunt Kathy got Kenz a beard to match mine for Xmas. Whitney tried it on as well.

Happy Christmas!

The next morning, Kenz and I both woke, on accident, at 4:45am. Too excited to go back to sleep, we decided to get on the road to South Carolina. Of course, not before waking up everyone to say goodbye. Patti crawled out of bed, exclaiming, "Wait, wait! Stockings!" She sent us on our way, at 5:15, with hugs and stocking stuffers.

As usual, Kenz helped with the driving:

We stopped at Waffle House for lunch:

We arrived in record time to Mom & Tom's house and immediately checked movie times for Les Miserables.

MOMA and Tom had taken Kara and I to see the play when we were super young, and it has been our favorite ever since. So, instead of doing Christmas brunch...or gifts...we left the house, got our movie tickets... and ate lunch at Shoney's while we waited on the movie to start. Quite a nontraditional holiday.

Despite our lunch break, we still arrived an hour before the film started. The theatre had just let out. MOMA was determined to get the best seats in the house; she insisted that we go in before the employees began cleaning it. Folks, the credits were still rolling when she and Tom walked in. She told me later that they had lifted their legs for the employees to sweep underneath their seats. What gall!

The velvet rope to the left is where the line for the next showing was supposed to start. And there's MOMA, opening the door while the previous showing is still ending.

Kenz and I stopped to get popcorn. They went in. By the time we had our snack, a line had formed. We weren't going to break decorum, so we just joined the line and said things like, "can you believe she did that" do each other for twenty minutes.

The irony is that MOMA and Tom did get the best seats in the house - if it's not Les Miserables on Christmas Day in Summerville, South Carolina. We had the seats on the front row of the aisle where people can enter and exit the theatre. By the second hour, after the fortieth person had gotten up to go to the bathroom, I nudged MOMA and asked her if she still thought they were the best seats in the house.

The critics haven't been too thrilled with the movie. All I'll say is that, when we left, Tom said that, surprisingly, he didn't fall asleep. He had twenty-two years ago while watching the stage performance. That's gotta count for something.

 That evening, we ate dinner and finally got to presents.

Effective improvisation. No one'll notice.

The parents watching Gangnam Style for the first time

Twice baked!

Probably 17K lights. Just a guess.

What's a girl gotta do to prove she's sticking around long enough to get her name embroidered?

We ate the traditional Christmas brunch the next day...

Frittata instead of juevos 'raunchies'

Sausage'n'rice!

 Then, for the next three days, we played games.

Kenz played Lego's

I failed miserably (almost impossibly) at Rummikub

MOMA earned money off me in Scrabble

During the few days we were there, MOMA insisted that I teach them how to 'do a blog'. You see, they're about to take a little trip, and they want to document it:

In one week, the two of them will drive to Florida.
The next day, they'll board a cruise ship.
That ship will be at sea for four weeks, finally arriving in New Zealand.
They'll spend five weeks touring NZ.
They'll board different cruise ship.
That ship will be at sea for another four weeks, finally arriving in Seattle.
They'll spend several days in Bend, visiting Kikster, Jamie, and Lucy.
They'll then rent a car and drive from Oregon to South Carolina.

(MOMA can't fly)

I don't have the energy to write, with sufficient detail, the gnashing of teeth, yelling, sighing, double-sighing, venting, tantruming, walking away, stomping, and pouting that went into teaching them (MOMA) how to blog. A picture is worth a thousand words.

I will say this:

I've been told for years, by all four of my parents, that I'll 'understand' when I have kids - that me having kids will be their best revenge. I got a taste of it during these (several) lessons. To preface:

When I was in fourth or so grade, MOMA would be sitting on the front porch of the house, waiting on me to get home from the bus. She'd be holding a ball. I would be filled with dread.

We'd stand in the front yard, she would throw me the ball, and then recite a multiplication problem. I was supposed to give her the answer by the time I caught it. We wouldn't go in the house until I'd done 1-12 out of order. That's right - we'd warm up in order (1x1, 1x2, 1x3...2x1, 2x2, 2x3...8x1, 8x2, 8x3...12x1, 12x2, 12x3...), and then she'd switch it on me (6x4, 12x5, 9x7...)

It. was. torture.

She did it with Kara, too. I'd seen it before. Kara would be in tears. MOMA would be there, stern, holding the ball, saying, "you're going to learn these." To this day, Kara's ace at multiplication.

Me...not so much. Call it perseverance.

That was what it was like teaching MOMA how to 'do a blog'. Only this time, the shoe was on the other foot. I was the one sitting there, patient, stern, saying, "you're going to learn how to do this," and forcing her to review the next day.

Tom picked it up pretty quick.

They called me yesterday morning; MOMA 'did a blog' all on her own. I'll be sure to post the link here once they've begun their trip.


FACETIME BREAK!

Owen calling from London!

The Ruckers in NC

The Sanders/Mitchells in Hong Kong! (Sans Sam)

Kikster in Oregon!

The last bits of time in South Carolina were spent going to another movie (The Guilt Trip, which was relevant to us - it's about a son driving cross country with his mom) and taking down decorations.

A scene in the movie has the mother being obnoxious about her coupon for a car rental - a very funny scene. After we left, MOMA suggested dinner at a specific restaurant because she had a coupon. It was one of those moments of synchronicity where everyone what she was saying as she was saying it. We lost it.

I can't tell if she's angry at me for taking the picture or at having to break down her Lego's set.

And, of course, we spent the last night playing more games.

The four of us then loaded into cars and drove to Lake Lure, NC to stay in a cabin with Kara, Jerry, Lisa, Sandy, Tony, Sam, Quin, and Zora. Of course, I can't drive through North Carolina without making a pit stop in Hendersonville.

Obligatory lunch at the old hangout

Camp Pinnacle: the most beautiful patch of Earth that ever existed.

This is the spot I was going to propose to Kenz, but the day I got the ring, I said, "This is silly! Why should I wait? I want to get engaged now! We might be dead tomorrow!" I drove straight to her house from the jeweler. 

Council Ring is still standing

Some new additions

I'll be going to a wedding in Guatemala in February. The man getting married made this sign. We go way back.

Then it was more gifts, more food, and more games!

The approach to our rental

Pretty sweet digs!

The view. Too bad it wasn't warmer or we would've taken the boat out.

ARRIVALS!

MOMA, dental hobbyist

ZORA

THIS IS WHAT FUN LOOKS LIKE

POPCORN

MORE POPCORN! RUINING DINNER IN STYLE!

Sam, Quin, and Zora - much more interested in gifts than dinner.

Sandy's birthday cake! 

GIFT TIME!

Several years ago, MOMA went shopping for Kara. Instead of purchasing the jewelry in the display case, she talked the store owner into selling her the porcelain display hand. MOMA gave that hand to Kara. Of all the years of all the bad gifts, the hand was, by far, the most outrageous. It is the stuff of legend.

When it comes to gifts, MOMA is Babe Ruth. Ruth had the most home runs during his time...but he had the most strike outs as well.

This year, Kara, Jerry, Kenz, and I gifted her two antique rubber glove molds. Two hands. One from each of us.

They were wrapped separately

She thought the first was a good joke.

I think she got confused when she opened the second. 

Ironically, MOMA and Kara got the same t-shirt for me this year. That's right - I have two shirts like the one you see in the picture. Kara got this 'matching' one for Kenz. 

 The rest of the two days went as you'd expect:

Apparently the gifts the Aunts and Uncles got the kids worked out well.

Puzzles

Get a room!

Under the table was, apparently, the place to be

Tripoli!

Copious amounts of laughter

More games! Note Tom's 'FML'.

The last morning. Car's packed. Kenz and I stay for two more hours of games before we drive away. (everyone else had several more days in NC)

We spend New Year's Eve in traditional KenzDave fashion: doing absolutely nothing.

Puzzles

Lounging

Michael and Patti had friends over on New Year's Day for tamales and football. It was equal parts awesome and delicious:

Whitney was puppy sitting again

So good

Charlie is scared of my face and beard. The entire trip, he'd cry if I got too close to him. No one else. Just me. 

Then, at the end of the trip, we made our final rounds:

Fondue with the Bushmans

Football with the Gibsons

Lunch with the boys

And another dinner with The Ashburns (only this time with 'medium' margaritas)

Goodbyes are never easy.

Kenz spending her last hour with Apollo...

...as I carry down the bags and load the car.

Whitney took her lunch break to ride with us to the airport. 

I trapped Kenz in the line with all the bags

This face was for no reason other than to make a funny face. NO ONE ON EARTH makes better faces.

Her doing what I couldn't. And I was jealous. 

That's all, folks. 

In the future, I'm going to try and not go away for an entire month, because this update took too damn long! I hope you had a wonderful time with your families and friends. We did with ours. It was great to see everyone. By the way, Aunt Camille and Uncle Ronnie - next time I'm getting a picture! You're too elusive for the blog! 

Have a great weekend. Thanks for making it to the end.