Jen, Grace, and Luke's Blog: Memorial Day Weekend

So many pictures, so little time. I have so much to say about this past weekend and so many great pictures to post, I'm just going to throw them up here and do a little narrating as I go. I've had one of those days but don't want to fall behind with the pictures because it's hard to play catch up.

The weekend was fantastic up at the lake. I left on Friday and did my first solo trip up with the kids. It went surprisingly well. Spongebob played the whole time and we stopped at "Old MacDonald's" for lunch but we made it in one piece. It was chilly but it didn't stop us from lots of campfires and walks around the lake. We stopped in Montrose for a cute flea market and Luke scored a $2 most beloved firetruck ever. He pushed it all over Montrose, much to the delight of passers-by.

Grace fell in love with caterpillars--and I mean in love. We collected a bunch and she visited with them all weekend. She loved letting them crawl all over her arm, petting them, screeching when they pooped--they were a hit. It was a time of great sadness when I said say goodbye to them. It really was very sad. Kind of heartbreaking. They had become like little pets. Little pets I did not want in the car.

We saw a snake for the first time. I wish I could say I was more excited. Actually panicked is the word I would use. I saw it cutting through the water and my first reaction was to scream the girliest scream you've ever heard, throw my hands in the air, and run away. But, coolest mom ever, I called the kids over so they could see it and let me tell you--this thing was a hit. They screamed in delight (much better than fear) and Luke talked about it for 72 hours. That's a hit.

I did two runs while there. Let's just say running in NE PA is not running in Jenkintown. I've decided from now on I'm running for time and not distance. It's so freakin hilly there, I just put my head down and plod on. It's actually really pretty and a nice change from the traffic-filled streets of suburbia. Your mind can wander more as you look at mountains, listen to the creek gurgling by, or wonder if that farm dog is securely tied up.

I did a new run per Tom's suggestion and I'm still mixed on it. It's one of these "rails to trails" paths that's been converted for recreation. Tom warned me to go out slow because it's an out and back and the back is kind of hard. On the way out I concluded Tom was FOS, that I was not in fact slowly going down hill, and I'd be fine on the return. Wrong there. . . .The trail is remote. REMOTE. Kind of freaky remote. There's nothing around you for miles. NOTHING. Except nature. And a dead bird I saw. I wondered what had gotten the bird. And then tried not to think about it too much as I checked to insure my pepper spray was on my waist. At the turn around I realized Tom had in fact been correct as I gazed at the hill ahead of me. Shit. . . Surprisingly, my time out matched my time back. I really didn't expect that given the effort I was putting out. A total of 7 miles in 1:17.

There's so much more I could write but really you're here for the picture so enjoy:

Someone please cue the music to Little House On the Prairie. Speaking of which, if you've seen our copy, it's our latest overdue book.

OK--so she's adorable. I know it. We all know it. She actually walked around with a yellow mustache all day from the flower near her lip. It made me giggle.