Coming Home

Blessing of all blessings, I get to come home for 14 days. The trip brings me to St. Mary's County, MD for a few days, VA for a few, and then back to MD for a few.

The girls and I took a flight out of Denver, where some foreboding lightening reminded me of the tornados that hit the area a couple of weeks ago and the fact that it can rain somewhere in the world. Alas, I am not a scared flier (if you die, you die, why spend the last few moments anticipating it?), and we took off, climbed into the air, and all was well. Mia was in a carseat - a really big deal - and Ellie in my lap. The flight was great. And the girls did well. Even the mean, grumpy men who sassed me as I humbly struggled to get us and all of our baby things settled, offered apologetic hands of help as I packed up the girls, the perfect fliers they were, to get off of the plane. If you are ever flying with children, or know someone who is, I highly recommend using a car seat (just check the bottom to make sure it is airline approved). The wee ones just think they are in a car ride, and they are strapped in so they don't try to jump or pull hair or run down the aisles. Good stuff.

We arrived in Baltimore to a flood of rain and I searched for Noah's Ark while showing Mia the teeny-tiny sailbots in the harbor down below. There was a lot of rain, soaked to the bone coming down in sheets meet-your-maker kind of rain, and I was thankful that Dad and the girls and I made it into a diner during a break in the deluge. The diner menu was packed with seafood. Ahhhhh, seafood. I could taste it in my mouth just reading about it. But it was 9:00 at night, so I flexed my discipline muscle and ordered breakfast. A good meal to get to sleep on. Dad, only a few days out of the hospital and all of its restrictions, couldn't pass on the surf and turf. Happily, we headed home.

I know all of the Marylandites in the family have watched the growth of the area steadily progress over the years, but for me the drive home was like a trip into another universe. What once was a long and somewhat contemplative cruise down a rural highway buffered by scrubby forest - only occasionally interrupted by the intrusion of a tiny afterthought of a gas station, liquor store, or strip mall is now a drive down the avenue of consumer temptation and delight - packed with a store for every want and need, even some I had not remembered I might need. In the midst of the foaming of my mouth for something new or tasty or pretty or absolutely necessary, I got a little lost. I mean in terms of knowing where I was on the drive home, and the disorientation came with the usual feeling of loss and remorse that one gets when they've moved away from home long, long ago, and so many other peoples have come and irrevocably altered almost every inch of it. I ty can't blame them. I won't be so self centered as to judge any of it as wrong, but it is a slap in the face, a penalty of sorts, perhaps, for going away and then trying to come back and find a trace of what used to be - having not stuck around to tend or nurture along any of it.

But the homecoming was good. Every once in a while I recognized a familiar little mini mall, a bend in the road, or the shell of an old familiar fast food place turned into some new fast food place with a change in paint color and signage. And once we got truly down the road, 'south of the base', to the land that used to be no-man's land and that now, still, thankfully, doesn't have a disorientingly new thing planted firmly in the soil every few feet, I felt like I recognized home, and sure enough I was close to it. For home in my case is the place where family, water, and crabs are (ok, so also where salty air, sandy soil, holly trees, ravines, marshes and marsh muck, beaches, shark's teeth, and the Tackle Box are too).

I came home to the delighful news that Mom and Dad have found a house they like that is on the market. We go to look at it and it is the perfect 'grandma's house'. There is a shady lawn, lots of privacy, acres of trees and laurel and marshy ground, a swingset, a few extra bedrooms, a couple of extra bathrooms, a fenced in spot for pets, a parking pad for an RV, two magnolia trees, and a walking-distance proximity to a daughter, son-in-law and 6 grandchildren. Life is good. Mom and Dad take a look at it. The owners leave a hidden key so that everyone and their brother (and sisterand cousin and mother and father) can go back to check it out after work, and we all give the thumbs up for the Grammie and Grampie Lamb make an offer. They do. A nervous day and a half go by, and the owners counter. Another nervous half day goes by and an agreement is made! SOLD! Yahoo! HIp Hip Hooray! We all scream so loud and is so much glee that Ellie starts to cry. Well, a little comforting will take care of that. We hollar (quietly) a little more. It is a big day.

So now we are all walking around silently redoing the house in our heads, figuring what wall colors should go here, what pictures and furniture there. Steve, the kitchen remodel guru extroardinaire, will redesign the aging kitchen, and Mom and Dad will put some long-held savings into making this house, the only house they've ever planned to truly stay in and never, ever, resell, ALL THEIR OWN.

Below are some pictures of the visit so far. I apologize for a stream of words above and disassociated stream of pics below, but the no-nap crash side-swiped the girls and I today, after several days of gleeful play with four doting grandparents and 6 doting cousins. I think the 20 hours of HGTV watching might have something to do with my energy too (yes, I have no discipline, and I am a junkie, which is why I don't have cable!), or the 90 degree humid heat which saturates my desert-dried system, or just the weight of the pure excitement of being home and seeing everyone and not wanting to ever slow down.

a handful of a thousand words'. . .

Dad and Ellie on our first morning here, and Ellies new seat. Yes, that is an extension cord looped to the seat as a tether. 'You know you're a redneck if . . . '. Actually, we just didn't have any string, and I took the opportunity to photograph this moment so that I might test the devotion and fortitude of Ellie's future suitors with it.

Kyle and Ellie. Sara and Steve's kids are all so great with our little wee ones. They have learned well from their parents, and have a lot of compassion themselves to bring to the table.

Oh, joy! The old airplane game. . . if only I knew an adult big enough to hoist me up like this for a giggling ride every once in a while.

Maggie takes a turn as I realize that my arms may atrophy and fall off for want of use over the next 14 days. Joy of joys.

We all get together at Sara and Steve's, and afterwards, it's out onto the cool deck for some relaxation time. Everyone throws on sweatshirts. I soak up the coolness. I know the heat and humidity will be here tomorrow and for several days to come. Besides, it is still snowing in the mountains outside of Denver. . .

So, Steve's dad Phil always struck me as a man whose life came to full completion when he bacame a grandfather. This picture proves it. Although only a grand-uncle-in law to Ellie, she settles into his arms and into a great peace. She must not know the subtle legal and familial difference. . .

More pictures soon, time for dinner at Scheible's!