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Thursday, August 14, 2014

The first day of the rest of our lives

Well.

We are on our way.

Yesterday the movers moved us and Geri, my visiting teacher, Keri, and Stephanie and I cleaned the house.  Janet came with brooms and enthusiasm to help but we were done.  (Not her fault.  She had a busy day and the cleaning went faster than expected.)

We stood around and cried and then the kids and I went in the empty house and cried and said good-bye to our beloved little house.

Then we had dinner at Geri's and said more good-byes and cried some more.

This morning, Braeden and Emma and I said a tearful good-bye to Grandma Geri and away we went.  (Adam and Mark will join us on Saturday.) In the van we wiped our tears and muttered KBO to each other which Braeden has been telling me often lately, quoting Winston Churchill.

Keep Buggering On.

I fully anticipated enjoying my drive with my children and those two don't disappoint.  Geri bought Emma a new book for the trip so it was mostly Braeden entertaining me.  We listened to music and sang and he caught me up on world events because he reads The New York Times like it's his job.

We stopped in Ellensburg for "first lunch" at Taco Del Mar.  (When you are a seventeen year old boy, first lunch and second lunch are a thing.) We'll be far from the mar in Utah so we wanted to enjoy one last time. 

We stopped in Pendleton at the Safeway where we always stop.  We lost Emma in Safeway.  Braeden said, "You stay here and I'll go find her."  Emma wandered up to me and I was on the hunt for wasabi almonds which it turns out are good for keeping you awake if you're drowsy.  I texted Braeden that I'd found Emma.  I texted him when we were in aisle 6, looking at nuts.  I texted him when we'd moved on to look at the soda choices.  I kept texting him and texting him and finally we found him.

His phone was in the van the whole time.

Braeden was ready for second lunch.  He got corn dogs which I wouldn't abide in the van so he had to stand outside and eat them.  He said the whole time he was leaning against the van, eating his corn dog, he was thinking about what a crazy mother he had.

Sorry buddy.  Corn dogs = gag reflex.

Braeden drove in Oregon, where the speed limit is 65.  Somehow that feels better than letting him drive when the speed limit is 80, like it is in parts of Idaho and Utah.  He did perfectly well and I could actually relax which is a huge difference from two summers ago and last summer too.  The only problem is that he had no sympathy for girls that needed a rest stop.  He told us that our inferior bladders were not his problem.  He said it with a smile as he pulled off the freeway though.

At the rest stop, there was a van full of people dressed in overalls and dresses.  The women had bonnets and the men had beards.  Mennonites?  I don't know enough to know.  The van pulled away and there was a loud shriek and a young woman and a young man came tearing out from behind the building and chased after the van, which had left them.  Finally the van turned around for them.

I was wondering if we were going to need to offer them a ride.

Once in Idaho, when I was driving and we were contemplating dinner at Cracker Barrel in Boise, I said, "I can't remember, is it exit 50A or 50B?"

Braeden said, "I got you, Girl."  He pulled out his phone to ask Siri.

Right then, I saw a billboard for Cracker Barrel.  Exit 50B.  I told Braeden Idaho predates Siri.  Ask Idaho a question, and a billboard will answer.

Emma considered that maybe Siri knows the answer to our questions because she asks Idaho.

Maybe.

At Cracker Barrel:

--Our waiter was named Clifford but unfortunately he wasn't a big red dog like Braeden and Emma were hoping.  He was a short round little bearded man who Braeden said looked like a watchmaker.  (He did.  Geppetto.)

--We all three ordered French Toast which is so delicious and addictive we think it probably puts the crack in Cracker Barrel.
--Emma obsessively arranged the pegs in the peg game so the colors were symmetrical.  Mark would have been happy because he has to do the same thing.
--More Mennonites (?) arrived.  Different than the other group.  An older couple came inside and ate at a table full of decidedly un-Mennonite people (among them a girl with spiked hair and short shorts) while about 10-15 young adults, dressed plainly, stood around in the parking lot by their vehicles, eating a picnic.  Braeden was incredibly curious and wanted to understand what they were doing and why they weren't all eating together.  Emma said maybe it was Amish Con 2014.  We'll never know.

I thought I knew how to get to our hotel but I handed Braeden my phone and told him to make sure I was heading the right way.  He kept getting distracted and telling me wrong directions.  I said, "You're really terrible at this."

He said, "That's what my friends always tell me."

We found the hotel and I turned when I shouldn't have and so missed the entrance.  "I should have gone that way." I said, "Why did I turn?" 

At the same time Emma said, "Because you're a stuuuuuupid woman," while Braeden said, "Maybe you're afraid of success on some level."

Ha ha.

They wondered what we were going to do in our hotel.  Watch Netflix?

I said no.  I said it is time for me to be an introvert.  Adam, because he's Adam, got us a two bedroom hotel. Emma is watching HGTV in the living room, Braeden is watching news in his room and I'm in the silence of my room.

We will keep buggering on.

And see what tomorrow brings.




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