God created her, I carried her, now she is my happiness and my laughter.

Friday, July 12, 2013

Road trip and New beginnings

No sooner did Nana leave back to Pennsylvania in which she had come to see baby Jacey for the first time, the girls and I were packing into the tight space in the back of Dad's rental truck for the road trip to Indiana. We had only slept in our new house on our own one night. Karen had been with us until Friday, but had given us Thursday as our first family night alone in the new house. David had not arrived permanently, yet either. And while I unpacked things from the move on Friday, Dad helped David move in and in between all of that, I PACKED UP things for our trip. Due to Dad's desire to leave early in the morning on Saturday, we stayed the night at their house Friday night. Much talk was given to being ready to go that night, having our things around so we could just hop right in the truck early in the morning. I said that wouldn't be a problem since I would be up feeding Jacey anyway and I planned on just sticking Emma in the truck still donned in her nighty.
                                                        (First night in our new house)

During one of Jacey's feedings that night I heard someone get up and get into the medicine cabinet. That was my first clue that "early" morning was not going to be so early. However, spirits were high as I knocked on mom and dad's door in the not-so-early morning. Mom greeted Jacey and me, still slipping her shirt over her head and dad peered around from the corner wrapped in his bath towel bragging about his new weight. (Which I'm not sure was in the up or down direction as his tone carried amusement.) Mom offered a couple of excuses when I asked if we were doing this road trip, or not. And she seemed out of sorts after that. Her supposedly ready boxes and bags were not as ready as we all would have liked and later it was learned she had forgotten her glasses. However, true to history as we know it, I was still last to enter the truck that morning around 0900 as I am always running in for a last minute item no matter the reason we are leaving.
                                                 (starting out the trip with some crazy hair)

We hadn't reached the Interstate, east, before each of us were wishing we had thought of this thing or that thing. Dad wanted his cellphone car holder, I wished I had thought of my violin and crocheting. But, there was no turning back. What we had was what we were stuck with and other than my complaint of a lack of better snacks later in the trip, we had all that we needed.
                                                           (photo curtesy of mom)

Jacey's feeding schedule of every 3 or 4 hours forced us to put several breaks in the otherwise incessant driving. Personally I was disappointed at the "smallness" of Texas' bragged up "largeness." It also did not seem as much cowboy oriented as I thought it might. We were, however, giddily excited to see the obligatory long horn cows in the homeward bound trip.


Much to my dismay, Oklahoma proved to be disappointing as well. Last time we had driven the pan handle, Oklahoma was having a pleasantly, lovely warm front and among other beauties of the country side I always thought that I could live there some day. The weather wasn't bad. Hot but bearable and Dad seemed to have the same opinion until our tunes were quickly changed when every rest stop was closed for seemingly, no good reason. Even the famous McDonald arch rest stop was closed (I think for construction.) Emma would have loved to see that in a manner more so than just in passing.

It was the well-situated picnic tables, clean bathrooms and kid's playground in the welcoming rest stop of Missouri that we first started to recognize that...MODOT cares. It wasn't confirmed that Missouri Department of Transportation truly cared until we got back on the road. Every ten miles or so we were kindly reminded to maintain certain travel safeties on lit up road signs. Our first ten miles we were told to "Buckle up while driving" affectionately signed "MODOT cares."Mile twenty we are told "Don't text and drive. MODOT cares." By the time we reached "Kids should travel in carseats. MODOT cares," we were convinced. But, you can't truly appreciate how much MODOT cares unless you hear it in the manner in which Dad spoke it. In a normal voice the warning was read and then like a loud, angry robot..."MODOT", followed by a sweet "cares." Much like the way everything became "unlawful" during a trip to Oregon, the rest of our trip through Missouri we were sure to point out all the ways MODOT cared in Dad's robot voice.








Illinois was the final straw to wishing we had an atlas. Dad (I believe) had planned early on to make a pit stop at the border of Illinois and Indiana where a favored Robbie's Restaurant awaited him with the World's best tenderloin steak sandwich. Remembering the name of the town, not to mention the restaurant itself, proved the most difficult. When looking back through past Facebook statuses (from when Dad had stopped there on a business trip) was not working due to Facebook's irritating removal of certain "stati" on mobile devices and the GPS being pointless on the phones since you can only zoom out so far and still be able to read city names; we knew we needed an Atlas. Mom finally "googled it" and after reading off a few small towns on the border, Dad's memory kicked in. Another google search of restaurants in the area nailed down Robbie's exact location. We called and made a reservation which was unnecessary as we were one of few families in the restaurant for our late, 2 o clock lunch. Dad was that of a little boy in a candy shop. He paced the aisle near our table with folded hands behind his back and the slightest smile on his face. He took in the displaced grandeur that in his mind, was Robbie's and he amusedly spoke of the tenderloin to the waitress as if she had never encountered it for herself. I did, personally, wonder if she really knew how famous the tenderloin in her restaurant truly was. She didn't seem that excited about it even though it says right on the menu that people come from miles to eat it, which we did...come from miles. My BLT, I imagine, was equally tasty and by far the best I have eaten. It was worth the stop and though the food sat heavy, we took a walk to a near by antique watch repair shop in which I would have bought a cute little elephant "piggy" bank had it not been for the inflated price of a small shop.
             (Little road in the Robbie Restaurant town with old style brick road. Photo curtesy of mom)

A couple gas stations later, we did try to buy an atlas; but they didn't actually sell any. Mom and I took a moment of silence for the end of the old ways as we know it. A moment that was quickly interrupted by the cute little peacock and flamingo metal statues that we insisted we would come back for homeward bound. We never did go back, however.

It wasn't until Indiana that I first had a desire to put down my phone and book to look at the scenery. Nostalgia was setting in and my eyes were trying to take in all the green, flat lands that I could. I love the mountains, but having grown up around them and living around them all my life, I find the flat lands and fields to be something of a speciality for me. Anticipation was high. David called as we neared Grandma and Grandpa's house, out in the boonies. And while he was still talking on the speaker phone in the truck about his studio project we rounded the corner to find Grandma and Grandpa taking their evening walk. We stopped and gave our initial, jovial greetings through the truck while David rambled on in the back ground.



                            (Grandma and Grandpa's/Mom's childhood home. Photo curtesy of Dad)

As we settled in, Grandma made sure we were fed in her usual way. She had prepared Chili in my favorite way. Emma took to Grandpa really quickly. She asked him to sit by her at the dinner table which I think he thought was pretty special. Emma was sitting in an old kid's wooden high chair in which Grandma's Dad had used with his kids long ago. But, she wasn't sitting close enough to Grandpa and asked me to move her closer. I told her to ask Grandpa to pull her closer and she leaned in to me and quietly said, "No, cuz he's too old." The table got a good laugh out of that which embarrassed poor Emma, but Grandpa made her feel better by pulling her closer and reassuring her that he really was old. Her statement had been true. After dinner we talked in the sun room, showed off the grand babies, played a game of scrabble (of course) in which mom won and promised Emma that we would show her something special after dark. However, it was still light out when we decided to pump up the air mattresses and turn in. So, Emma's first encounter of catching lightning bugs would wait until the next night.
                     (The pond at night. Great picture by Dad. I never did make it out to the pond, myself.)


The next day Uncle Tom arrived armed with pressure sprayer and guns. The barn needed "cleaned" out before the reunion. My grandparents already keep such a neat and clean barn space that the work was light. I was finding that I spent most my time in the house feeding Jacey or watching her sleep. When the moment was just right, however, I was able to stick her in the stroller and make my way out to be with everyone. I grabbed an ice cold mountain dew from the barn refrigerator which Grandma has always graciously stocked for me when I visit. (Plus, I think the reunion had something to do with it, as well) Dad was using a squeegee to push the water out of the barn as Uncle Tom sprayed the floor. Mom and I watched in amusement as Grandma, who doesn't know how to relax or take a moment's rest, came rushing in with a broom to help out. Here was Dad patiently and calmly pushing the water out as Uncle Tom went by and here came Grandma, hustling in as if the reunion would start in the next 5 minutes pushing water through the bristles of her broom at a fast and aggressive pace. I've never seen a near 80 year old woman work harder. She never stops and out did my mom and I put together.
                                               (Clearing out the barn. Photo curtesy of mom)
                                                             (Ready for the reunion)

My Grandpa is by far the most patient man I have ever known. Towards the end of the pressure washing, Uncle Tom asked if they wanted a door, which happened to be next to an electrical box, sprayed down. "Why not?" was the reply, so spray the door, he did. But, as the water reached the electrical box sparks went flying. Only thing was, Uncle Tom didn't notice it right away. Several of us were shouting for him to stop and when he did, the water was still dripping slowly, drop by drop into the electrical box causing sparks to fly out with each drop. Grandpa turned off the breaker. By the time he returned Uncle Tom had exited the scene. I'm not a huge fan of possible fire hazard situations so I left to find that Uncle Tom had gathered up his son (who had also come to help) and my dad to shoot guns. I thought I might like to try shooting and kind of stood back and watched for a while assuming someone would eventually offer for me to do some shooting. But, I quickly realized a man and his gun are not quick to part. I did speak up and ask to do some shooting. I remembered the gun I shot in bootcamp having less kick and causing less of a painful ringing in my ears. But, then I was probably wearing ear plugs. I can't really say if I hit the target, but the act of shooting guns still appeals to me. Next time I want ear plugs.
                                                        (Pressure spraying the barn)
                                                            (Jacey waits outside)

Grandpa was still working away with the electrical problem. At one point he thought he had it all fixed. He went to turn the breaker on but even still we all took a few steps back. Except for Grandma who, having faith in her man's work, stayed next to the breaker box. And as she was making the statement "He's done all the wiring in this place," Grandpa was flipping the switch and flames shot out of box, startling Grandma half to death and sent her rushing out yelling "turn it off! turn it off!" I write this story as the silent observer having had somewhat of a fear of unexpected flames and silently taking my baby out of the barn after that. Later I learned that three trips to the hardware store finally fixed the problem. It was dark outside before I finally saw lights come on in the barn. Crisis averted much thanks from Grandma's nerves I'm sure as she probably worried what she would do about  the reunion had there been no electricity. Or maybe she didn't worry having complete faith in Grandpa's skills, himself having remained calm and patient through this whole ordeal. One can learn so many wonderful character traits from these two people. Grandpa relaxed that evening with Jacey and was, in the way only a Grandpa can, the first to get Jacey using her little voice. She just cooed and cooed with him while mom and Grandma and I played scrabble.
                            (Grandpa gets Jacey to talk for the first time. Photo curtesy of Mom)

The reunion began on Saturday with out any more major issues. Grandma made her famous sloppy Joe's which makes my mouth water just thinking of them. Uncle Bob, who had arrived earlier to do camping back by the pond has a step daughter named Riley, who upon arrival become instant best friends with Emma though they are 10 years apart in age. Jacey made her rounds with all those needing a baby fix and others who just love babies. (More pictures on facebook)
                                                       (Waiting for sloppy Joe'swith Riley)
                                                      (Emma's new best friend, Riley)

The reunion was smaller this year than other years. Also, younger. Emma had plenty of kids to play with although she mainly just hung out with Riley. But there was an essence in the air that was simply fun and enjoyable. Previous reunions I was too young to be able to appreciate all the family being there. I didn't grow up around them so they were basically strangers to me. This year I felt closer to everyone having kept up on Facebook, plus being old enough to just appreciate family as family.
                                                                     (Lunch line)
                                                           (Uncle Tom on left)

After lunch, the traditional white elephant auction was held to help raise money for the reunion costs. My two uncles (mom's brothers) and two of the funniest people I know, headed up the auction. All gifts are wrapped so you don't know what you are bidding on. Some of the gifts have a little description such as "for a young girl." Uncle Bob would read the description of each package, even if it didn't come with a description. One box said fragile (whether it was or not) so of course "A Christmas Story" was quoted. Others, Uncle Bob described as being "these dimensions and having a bow of this color." My mind is running wild with the laughs we all shared during the auction, but you really had to be there to truly appreciate it. So, I'll just skip to the best part....the last gift.

                                                       (Uncle Bob describing a package)

                                                    ("Three, Four, Five...Do I hear Ten?")

In my mom's side of the family there has been an old Navy sailor's hat that has been passed around from person to person for YEARS. Its the kind of thing that you hope you never get and at the same time you kind of hope, deep down inside, that someone does stick you with the hat. Once you've had "the hat" you know you are truly a part of the family. It all started when Grandpa (I think it was he) and one of his brothers were arguing over how much one owed the other. As a joke, one of them threw the hat in the other's car stating "Here! Here's your payment." From that moment on, "the hat" began to be passed from brother to brother to son to daughter to cousin to uncle to any McKinley family member. Even my sister Kim received it once as a baby gift when she had her first child. "The Hat" has traveled the world on my Uncle Mike's ship, has gotten soiled on a car's radiator, has been shrunk in someone's washer, has been found hung on someone's front door, has been at the bottom of a cookie container and at one point was thought to be lost only to show up a decade later having been behind someone's dresser. The key is to sneak the hat to someone else in the family with out them knowing. One should be very creative with the passing of the hat and having it is not something to take lightly. Often times "the Hat" shows up in the auction. One year Uncle Arlen had it and he made it a nice "frame" which was actually just a wooden toilet seat. He wrapped it up and put it in the auction at a reunion. "The Hat" remains in the toilet seat frame to this day.

My Uncles had no idea what was in the last package of the auction this year, but it had a sentimental type tag on it that read, "Something Grams used to really enjoy, with a frame that Uncle Arlen made" so they saved it for last. Aunt Judy (Uncle Arlen's wife) sat next to me and shook her head not knowing for sure, but half expecting it to be the wooden toilet seat and "the Hat." Many people thought the gift to be a crocheted creation or puzzle from Grams (who has passed on) so the biding was going high. Everyone wanted a piece of something that Grams enjoyed. Heather, a grand daughter of one of the original brothers really thought she was bidding on something crocheted. She was determined and at $80, the last gift was hers. She opened it excitedly, everyone anxious. The look on her face when she saw it was priceless as she did NOT know the story of the hat and felt for a small moment that she just spent $80 on some junk. No one, other than the gift giver, knew it would be the hat and as the hat emerged out of it's wrapping the entire room rose to their feet, flooded around poor Heather, laughing heartedly, telling their stories of when they had the hat. Heather became an instant celebrity. Everyone wanted her picture with the hat. Flashes were going off everywhere and Heather's face was a mix of disappointed, surprise, excitement and confusion. FINALLY, someone came in, quieted those closest to them and told her the whole story. She seemed dazed after that for quite some time. As she stood there holding the hat even several minutes after the opening, people were still coming up to see it, tell their story and get a picture. Heather had no idea the priceless treasure she had purchased, and to this day I think she might still wish she had a framed crochet. But, the special nature of "the Hat" will eventually sink in and she will determine a clever way of discarding of it to the next un-expecting family member.
                                                (Grandpa, Heather, Uncle Arlen - from left)

Next on the agenda for the day was a truck drawn hay ride that was quickly becoming tradition. It was the first reunion I had been to with a hay ride and was excited to do it with Emma. Mom and Dad volunteered to drive the truck and take Jacey in the cab with them. Emma cozied in a blanket with Riley. Uncle Bob, who usually drives, sat, for the first time, with his wife across from me. As the truck pulled out of the drive it wasn't long before people started teasing Uncle Bob in the best McKinley way of how Uncle Lynn was such a better driver. Spirits were high, Cousin Kirk made us all laugh as everything that comes out of his mouth is something hilarious. In the distance people started to notice dark clouds. Dad had instructions from Grandpa as to where drive. His destination was a covered, old, nostalgic bridge and it just happened to be right in the line of some heavy rain. As we entered the first few drizzles conversation turned from making fun of Bob, to begging his forgiveness and making fun of Uncle Lynn instead. "Who made the crack about Arizona?" Uncle Bob asked. Only to be reminded that it was himself having mentioned so often about Indiana's weather, "It's a wet heat." And we really were about to be very wet. And as rain poured down on us everyone scrambled under blankets and sweatshirts. Mom had given me a jacket incase I got cold, but no sooner did I have it over my head I realized Emma didn't have anything. She was on the exact opposite side of the wagon, though, so I passed the jacket to my second cousin to pass to her. He passed it to another second cousin, who was holding his daughter in his lap, and he mistook the gesture as the jacket being passed to his own daughter. I laughed and saw that Emma was getting shelter enough in her blanket with Riley so I wasn't going to say anything. But then Cary realized what had happened and laughed as he passed the jacket on to Emma who took it gratefully. I did feel bad, though that then Cary's kid was still in the rain. Uncle Bob teased me after that about giving away all my clothes to the children and asked if I had ever considered volunteering at Red Cross. ha ha We all felt a little stupid as we passed the Amish covered wagon and older Amish brothers and sisters telling their younger Amish siblings to look out at us laughing.
(Sitting across from Uncle Bob, Aunt Lori and Cousin Wes on the hay ride. Cousin Kirk in the middle)
 (Aunt Doris, their grandkid Logan and Uncle Mike sitting in the back of the truck since the wagon was full)
                                                   (Cousin Riley, Emma and Cousin Coral)

Finally, we reached the bridge. Dad parked it and cautiously emerged from the truck with my mom not sure of what treatment they would receive. All the McKinley's in all their special kind of humor let them have it. Of course, pictures were taken, everyone was teased and memories were made. We weren't the only idiots as we all waved to two drenched boaters pausing under the bridge. As the rain slowed we ventured out again being mocked a second time by another covered Amish wagon. It seemed as if even their horse was laughing at us. But we loved it. As we pulled back into the driveway Dad grabbed Jacey out of the car and in a hurried manner shouted to mom, "Make a run for it, Honey." And since we all had to wait for "ladder boy" (Uncle Arlen) to get out of the wagon we couldn't chase them down anyway. Those who had stayed behind greeted us in the dry barn laughing at our misfortune. My cousin Kevin had even said as we pulled away that he was staying behind because he didn't want to get stuck in unforeseen circumstances like rain. ha ha Fortunately, since we were staying with Grandma and Grandpa we were able to go in and get dry clothes.
                                                   (Uncle Tom and second cousin Shawn)
                                                  ("Drying" off under the bridge)

The night was wrapped up with a lovely display of fireworks put on by Grandpa, Dad and Uncle Bob. And in a more touching moment, hot hair balloons (like in the movie Tangled) were brought out and sent up with a prayer for all those who could not be with us this year. As we watched the balloons fade away high in the sky I heard dad say to mom, "You have a neat family." And we truly do. (Dad posted a neat video of the balloons on facebook you should check out as I was unable to get it posted here)
                                                    (Jacey makes her rounds. Uncle Mike)
                                                                   (Cousin Amy)


                                                                     (Aunt Doris)
                                                                  (Cousin Zeb)

The next day was mom's birthday. Uncle Mike came back out to celebrate. We played cribbage and though all of us girls (Grandma, mom and I) were really out of sorts, Uncle Mike kept us on our toes. The laughs and memories we made over those games are ours to hold and can't really be described.
                                             (Shopping at an antique store with Grandma)

Couple days later it was time to head back out west. On the way home things are always more tense and fast pace as everyone just wants to get back to normal routine. We had to ACTUALLY start early in the morning this time as we wanted to make it to Albuquerque in time to see Nick and Lynsey. We were saying our good byes by 4:30 in the morning. Grandpa lead us in one of his eloquent prayers, mom and Grandma cried, we took a couple more pictures and were sent on our way with the famous McKinley "wave." Mom and I were in higher spirits than Dad who was pretty sad to be leaving his beloved mid-eastern home. We played lots of candy crush and pet rescue on that first day.

                                                        (Emma's bored of traveling)

The next evening we met up with Nick and Lynsey which was really pleasant. Lynsey had a new car which Emma and I rode in to the restaurant. Nick followed with Mom, Dad and Jacey in the truck. I was in the middle of telling Lynsey about my recent car accident when Nick scared me half to death, knocking on my window. I thought for sure it was a homeless mexican wanting my purse. But it was only Nick, telling us that Lynsey had been driving with the emergency brake on. ha ha The restaurant was tasty and I truly enjoyed my time with Nick. It's been too many years since Nick and I bonded and I was determined after seeing him that evening to start staying in touch with him better. We always had such fun as kids. Emma LOVED Lynsey and had a hard time giving her time to just talk with the adults. It started to get stormy as we were leaving. Emma was scared of the thunder (later I learned was just a tactic to get attention) and Dad took his "face your fears" approach and told her the thunder owls would snatch her up unless she said, "Go away, owls!" I took a more scientific approach and told Emma all about thunder and lightning and how it worked. When I was all done telling her my big long explanation she still shuddered in her blanket in fear and I made her feel bad for not trusting me. Later in the hotel she came up to me and gave me a hug and said, "I'm sorry I didn't believe you." ha ha She's a silly girl.



The last stretch home was very enjoyable. We played the Alphabet game and the Going to the Moon game with Emma who surprisingly played them pretty well for a 4 year old. Mom and I were starting to get giddy as we played more and more candy crush and pet rescue. Even Dad caught on to the homeward bound excitement as he made fun of mom's pet rescue game, gave her chubby cheeks while kissing her, and stumbling out of the truck at each stop in his crippled old-man way.

It was pretty strange being dropped off at our new house. Dave hadn't quite settled in and there was still a lot of organization to do. Mom and Dad got Shelby around, who had stayed with Dave, and took off. It was almost as sad a parting as leaving Indiana. We had lived with Mom and Dad for so long it was starting to seem like home. I didn't waste any time, however, starting to get settled in at our new place. I rearranged Dave's kitchen set up, put furniture back into place, unpacked the last box and Dave came home while I was vacuuming the garage entry.
                                                          (Emma, glad to be home)

I like living with David. We are similar in every way. We aren't much for pleasantries. So, the first time we see each other after two weeks time, I'm vacuuming. He gives me a weird look, we don't say anything to each other but I do try and vacuum his shirt by way of saying, "I missed you." I finished up my vacuum job and told him about the changes to the house I had made, asked him to help me with a few things and then he took off with his friend, Jake to rule the town of Tucson. They came back late last night. The girls were sleeping and I was laying in bed. He apologized for the noise they were about to make in the studio. Although I never mind hearing David play and record, I actually couldn't really hear it at all and fell asleep for the first real night in my new house.