Porting

We were supposed to go on a cruise this weekend.  It was a small family cruise with my mom, sister, brother, sister-in-law, husband, and daughter.  We were supposed to leave out of Florida and go to the Bahamas.  As you might have guessed from the tense of the first few sentences, these things that were supposed to happen, did not, in fact, happen at all.

Here's what really happened.  We left on Thursday morning and were over 1/2 way to the airport (quite a trek in our neck of the woods), when I realized that I'd ruined the cruise before it had even started:  I left our cruise tickets sitting on the floor next to our bed.  Visions of my mother handing me the neatly organized "AAA" packet including the tickets and saying, "Just be sure to pack this!" flashed through my mind.

We called our friendly and supremely helpful AAA travel agent who assured us (after making a quick phone call to the cruise line) that it was no big deal.  We could still get on the ship as long as we had our birth certificates, which we did.  *Whew!*  Crisis averted.

We flew to Florida on two very uneventful flights (Lily was the best baby on the plane - napped in the Moby on the layover, played adorably on the flights).  We spent the night in a nice hotel, ate breakfast and boarded the shuttle to the ship.  This is when the story gets interesting again.

Enter Tropical Storm Sandy.  Why did she have to come?  *Sigh*  When we got off the shuttle at the cruise line's terminal, we were pelted with warm rain at 40 miles an hour.  Lily's nap in her Ergo ended quickly thanks to Sandy's blustery breath.  We raced into the terminal and avoided getting totally soaked.  We checked in and boarded the The Monarch of the Seas.

Once everyone was boarded and mostly unpacked, the captain came on the speakers and announced that thanks to Sandy-dear making 30-foot waves, we would not be leaving port until at least morning and that docking at Nassau and CocoaCay were out.  They were looking into other itineraries.  Boo Sandy.  We still enjoyed a delicious supper and a restful night's sleep.

At 8 this morning our friendly Norwegian captain came back on the speaker to announce that we would not be leaving port until at least tonight and if we left port tonight, we would have nowhere to dock tomorrow because we couldn't get anywhere.  He finished his explanation by making it perfectly clear: "So, we will go out and do our best to find the smoothest waters possible, but it will be a cruise to nowhere."

Our waiter at lunch today told us this never happens.  The captain offered us a small on ship credit (which couldn't be used in the casinos or any of the duty free shops because the ship couldn't open them until it was 1/4 mile off shore...) OR a voucher for a cruise of equal value at a later date.

Given the options, you can imagine which one we chose.  After 1/2 an hour on the phone with the travel insurance to confirm that the insurance would pick up the cost of a hotel for 2 nights until our flights home, and 1 1/2 hours on the phone with our new best friend "Tripple A Thomas," we hopped a shuttle to a lovely hotel.  We ate complimentary dinner served by the hotel, sat in the hot tub, showered, and are now enjoying the Husker game.

We have plans to entertain ourselves tomorrow at Universal's Island of Adventure - specifically at the Wizzarding World of Harry Potter!  My only regret is that I didn't know we were coming here so I didn't bring my wand.  :(  A small price to pay, I suppose.

Everyone has had a lovely time despite Sandy's best efforts to thwart our fun.  It turns out she's helped us get a 2 for 1 on cruises.  We were debating earlier today if we will still be considered "virgin cruisers" when we come back to redeem our vouchers on a cruise at a later date.  We got on the cruise ship, stayed over night, but the ship never actually left port - did we cruise or not?

Chase put it quite well:  If a normal cruise is going all the way, and never cruising before means you're a cruise virgin, then we made it to third base.  Better luck next time!    


(If any of you got to this in search of reviews of the Monarch of the Seas, I thought it was a nice ship - a little worn in that I could tell it wasn't a new ship by the wear you could see on the carpet and such, but still nice.  I felt like we'd have had a great cruise with my 13 month old had we actually cruised.  The staff was patient, positive and generally fantastic in our unusual situation.  I felt bad for the Customer Service reps who got yelled at by various cruisers who picked CS as the target to express their anger at the real problem: Sandy.  When we settled our account right before we disembarked, we received a note stating that we would be mailed a voucher for the amount paid for our cruise to be used on a future RC cruise.  I thought they handled it and the 2,300 other guests as well as can be hoped.  We are still in FL waiting to fly home, so I'm not sure how that will all work out, but so far so good.)  

A brush with the law (a.k.a. "The Bike Story")

I like to write, and as it turns out the hobby runs in the family.  My mom's dad has written down a number of stories from his growing up years as well as his years working as a TV repairman.  These are some of my most prized possessions.  Seriously, they cannot be replaced!  

One of my favorite stories that Grandpa wrote about is the story about his bike.  As aforementioned, he wrote it and I post it here for your reading pleasure.  Just envision the Andy Griffith Era as you read...

One day the town cop had pasted hand-written notices around town stating that it was illegal to ride a bicycle on the sidewalks of Henderson.  This posed quite a problem for us, because the streets were either dirt or gravel and very hard to ride on, especially when it rained or snowed.

One day shortly thereafter, I was riding home from school on the sidewalk.  The cop, who was also the town maintenance man had a hole dug along side the sidewalk.  As I approached, he jumped out of that hole and grabbed my bike.  "You're under arrest!" he said.  Then he gave me a ticket to appear in court.  when I got home, I told what had happened.  Mas, my brother, said, "Yeah, he got me too."  

Max and I decided that if we had to go to court, then all the other boys in town should go to court with us.  We thought that if we got enough boys to go with us, they wouldn't do anything.

The time arrived to appear before the judge.  We had quite a bunch of boys with us as we entered the town hall.  John, the cop, read the charges and everybody plead guilty.  Now, Judge Frank read the charges in his low German accent.  "One dollar fine or tirty days in jail wit da bicycles."  Of course, none of us had a dollar.  (That was a day's wages for a man at the time.)

The next morning we all delivered our bikes to the town hall wehre teh cop wheeled them into the jail cell, slammed the door shut and locked it.  We were allowed to visit our bikes later, which we did.

Now Max came up with a great idea.  "We need to get us another bicycle," he said.  so we started scrounging parts from all over town.  Soon we had enough to build a bik.  It was a high wobbly thing, but it could be ridden if you didn't go too fast.  We made a few dry runs around the yard, then we led that bike close to where teh cop was working.  I held it while Max got on and slowly rode  on the street back and forth, making sure the cop got a good look.

A couple of days later, Donald, the neighbor kid, and I were walking to town.  We spotted a hole along the side of the road with the cop's tools and jacket lying there, but he wasn't anywhere in sight.  I stood watch while Donald nailed his jacket to a light pole.

On Sunday, Grandma and Grandpa came over for a visitf.  Grandpa wondered why we weren't out riding our bicycles.  When Mom told him what had happened, he wanted to know who had done this to us.  When she told him it was Judge Frank, he became quite upset.  I don't think Grandpa like Judge Frank.

I don't quite know what Grandpa did to that judge, but I'm quite sure it wasn't nice.  Grandpa had these big strong arms and hands, and when he got someone by the throat, they usually did as he requested. 

We all went together and picked up our bicycles.  I don't think that sidewalk ordinance was ever enforced again in Henderson.

And that, my friends, is "the bike story."  Isn't it great?!  I love it!  My Grandpa is just that kind of a guy - a guy who knows how to tell a story.  I hope someday to be just like him.  :)

Hello Kitty and such

A little over a week ago I wrote a post about the importance of celebrating birthdays.  I posted pictures of Lily's modest party with just her Mommy and Daddy on the day of her birthday.  I said in that post that whatever your tradition, however you do it, celebrate.  Well, our tradition (at least what I think will be our tradition) is to celebrate with immediate family on the day of the birthday, then at some convenient time close to the actual birth date, have a slightly larger party with those who mean the most to the celebrant.  

So below, I give you the 1st birthday party of Liliana Jo Francl.  It was, as you can see, Hello Kitty themed (at her request.  She said, "Meow, meow," when we walked by the Hello Kitty party decor in Walmart.)  We had it in our garage:

The treats

Hello Kitty cupcakes

Hello Kitty layer cake (top layer funfetti, bottom layer chocolate, chocolate icing in between!)

Singing to the birthday girl

Since the party happened a little over a week after her birthday and we celebrated before, she was well versed with how to stuff frosted cake in her mouth.  She picked up the cupcake with both hands, shoved it in her mouth and kept shoving until nothing but crumbs remained.

She read all of her cards (she loves to read), and they all had cats on them so she meowed at them too.

This was a sound card that clapped when she opened it - thanks Grandpa Dave! 

She still claps every time she opens it.

She got a Hello Kitty stuffed animal that she absolutely LOVES.  She's sleeping with it as I type.

Great Grandma Dorothy gave her a ball and she played catch with cousin Ella.

Surveying all the loot.  Thanks to all who came and showered our girl with love and things she'll love!

The aftermath: Tired baby, tired mommy, tired Hello Kitty (that's the white thing in the foreground).  

Headed straight for the crib.

Hello Kitty felt decals: $5

Cake mixes to make cake and cupcakes: $3

Borrowed equipment to pull off the party: tables, chairs & heaters

Having friends and family to help us celebrate 1 year of Lily: Priceless

Wondering and coats

Today was the first cold day of fall.  I mean, it was the first really cold day of fall.  When I woke up, it was in the 30's, and as I ran out of the house in my sweatshirt a couple of hours later, it was obvious that I was under dressed   But I refused to grab my coat.  I am loving fall, but I don't want to break out my coat.  Or to be more accurate coatS.

And I love coats.  Seriously.  I have a problem.  (Aren't you proud, honey?  The first step to healing is admitting you have a problem!)  I have a Columbia coat; I have a red wool coat (that is beeeeautiful, by the way); I have a white wool coat; I have a black wool coat; I have a black and brown dress coat; I have a tan trench; I have a black trench; I have a white and blue plaid trench; I have a navy pull over jacket; and I haven't even mentioned blazers, hoodies, or zip up sweatshirts yet.  *sigh*  What is with my reticence to break out my beloved coats?

Are you struggling to pull your coat from the closet?  To break out the scarves and mittens?  Is it just me?  Is it that fall is so wonderful this year that I want time to stop and somehow by not wearing my coats, I'm holding onto the early fall season?

After dropping my daughter off at my grandparents' farm for the morning, I drove past a tractor pulling full wagons and a combine picking away in the field.  The air smelled of fall, and I thought of the apple cider I drank yesterday in homage to the season.  And I wondered, What will the winter hold?

Last year at this time, I was adjusting to mommyhood and watching my baby change day by day before my eyes.  This year, my baby is turning into a toddler.  When it snows, we'll romp in the white fluff.  When it blows, we'll bundle and snuggle.

Last year I had a clear picture of where we were headed as a family - jobs, finances, housing, growth, rest.  This fall - right now, today - I'm content, settled, happy.  But unsure.  I see snippets of the coming days, but not the full picture.  I'm a planner, and I feel like I've reached the end of the plan in some ways.  I feel like there may be a surprise lurking around the corner (And no.  I'm not pregnant.).  But what it is, I don't know.  I feel like I'm waiting for it to hit, whatever it is.

Is that weird?  Good or bad, come what may, I'll take the mantra of Job.  "Blessed be the name of the Lord," and grab your coat!