Tuesday, April 24, 2012
The Breckenridge house is a large house in Colorado that my very generous brothers purchased ten or so years ago. It sleeps 26, we have found. That is to say, it sleeps 26 if the generations abide peacefully and the cousins, (then kids, now adults), readily accept blow-up mattresses and sleeping in closets. Ok, Ok, I was one parent who was against the kids sleeping in closets (fire hazard comes to mind), but the young cousins all managed to find their own "happy place", nooks and crannies, bunks and trundles, in this house for the past ten years, and it works. What memories...
This summer, after a decade of summers and Thanksgivings, Christmases, New Year's celebrations, even the "Golden Hippo Award" (not unlike Top Chef, if you will), the "Breckenridge house" will be the setting for the wedding reception of our daughter, the Bride-to-be, and her fiance. (This is where we all, I, and you readers, say a prayer for good weather.)
Last week I drove the nine hours to Breckenridge, and the affianced flew a fleeting ?6 hours?, as did the future Mother-in-Law, from Virginia and D.C. We did the wedding planning-in-a-weekend-thing, and I have to say, I am tickled that things have fallen into place. Hmmm....maybe it's because we do not ask for much? Nawwww...I like to think that it's because we are so used to planning affairs. Yep. That's it.
OK. This blog entry was to be about my drive home. Beginning with a 22º Rocky Mountain morning to 100º mid-Kansas mid-afternoon. That long, long marathon drive across Eastern Colorado and Western Kansas, where there is NO radio reception. And, dang it! I forgot a book on tape. Or whatever they call it nowdays. But...it was ok! Dandy, even. I listened to a host of CDs:
Kathleen Battle - two CDs (a miracle if I had her voice)
Yo Yo Ma: Bach Concertos (a miracle if I played cello like him)
The Pajama Game
Jerry Lee Louis
George Gershwin, Rhapsody in Blue and others
John Phillips Sousa Marches (twice. or thrice.)
Leonard Bernstein (West Side Story)
NPR: By Denver and then not at all for...8 hours. (REALLY?!)
And now I am Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety-Jig. My irises are at peak, the cats are wanting some attention, as are the dogs, (dogs will wait till morning, when I am back to high-energy, as are they.)
That Spouse o/ Mine has mentioned that he has had tilapia three nights in the past four; I suppose that means he might like something other, this evening. And heck yeah - after my McD's breakfast and my Arby's lunch, I can go with real food this evening. I have baked potatoes in the oven, and spinach salad in the waiting...
Home again, home again...