Goodbye Kirby Bing

Kirby Bing was a good dog.
Rescued from the mean streets of Henderson, he was not a cute little puppy at Petsmart that day, but Aly and I saw a frightened dog that needed a family to rescue him. And even though Aly picked him out, he was Daddy's boy.
He was the king of the sammamammers, chasing them around the patio, and occasionally catching a tail. He was an escape artist and a runner - open gate, open door, he was out! He didn't mind the cats and put up with his baby brother Charlie's constant herding.
Now he's crossed the rainbow bridge, reuniting with Cricket and Snowy, with Scrappy and Nana. Be free, Kirby. Free of the sickness that was breaking you down every day. Free of the insulin shots you bore without flinching. Enjoy treats again! Run all over! Know that we will love and miss you always. Rest in peace, my friend.

You were a good boy.

Happy Anniversary

Twenty-four years ago today, I married my best friend. 
No words, no gift, no card can express the love and the loss, the happiness and the tears, the better and the worse, the sickness and the health.
Here's to the dad who cleans, shops, cooks, and raised our children all while moving three times for my job and driving me to the airport at 4:30am. Now he's still actively Dadding three dogs, three cats, our not-too-long-distance daughter, our grown-but-home son, and our granddaughter.
Here's to the husband who never comes home without calling to see if I need something (Saturday I NEEDED chocolate cake), who surprises me with puzzle books and all the Bumbles he can find, who takes me on driving "adventures" to get me out of the house on the weekends, who goes on beach vacations even though he's bored and hates sand, who understands migraines, chiari malformations, chronic daily headaches, anxiety, bipolar disorder and escalatoraphobia, and who waits in the car during my numerous "Pull over! I gotta go to the bathroom!" stops.
Here's to the man who lives his dreams. He's been in the press box during an NFL game, wrote articles for ESPN, wrote two books (available on Amazon, with two more soon to be published), received a Doctorate in Biblical Preaching (that's Dr and Mrs Edwards on the Christmas cards, people), pastored numerous churches and counseled hundreds of people, created a local community theater group, wrote and produced numerous plays (raising money for charity and giving regular people a chance to participate in the theatre), and now is the PA Announcer for the Evansville Jr Bolts hockey team.
There's so much more. He can't pass a fireman's boot or bell ringer without giving up his change. He tips the servers at Sonic. He will hold a door open for thirty-seven people. He always takes a cart from the parking lot into the store. He lets the lady with five things in front of him in line when he has ten.
And you probably didn't know half of this because everything he does for everyone else, he does because he wants to. He needs to. Not for the accolades. Not for the recognition. Just because that's who he is.
And that is why I can't think of the words that explain how I feel about him. That little jump in my heart when he kisses me at the airport or when he yells "hooooooney" when he gets back from the store.
I love him.
Just because of who he is.

Thursday: The Children of Jamaica

After breakfast, we went on an excursion. No, we didn't go ziplining or trek through the jungle. We took a 10 minute van ride to a local school to read to the children.  The Sandals Foundation recently built a school building for an infant school (ages 3-6) which had been in operation for over thirty years without a permanent building. This is the school we visited.

All children in Jamaica go to school from the age of three. These schools are run by the government, and supplies are severely limited. We colored with a handful of crayons for each table, read well-worn books to the children, used flashcards from the US with unfamiliar pictures (T is for .... [a picture of a tent] ... the children shouted "house"), and played on a rocky playground with a few soccer balls.

Even though Sandals built the school, it was turned over to the government. The teachers, principal and janitor had been working two months, but the government had only provided enough money to pay for minimum supplies. The teachers had not been paid at all. We spent two hours with the children and it was by far the highlight of our vacation. It was sad that only eight people went on this trip. There were over two hundred at the previous night's "Sandals Select" lobster dinner. Eight of us went to read to the children.

You can see the children wear uniforms. All of them had shoes. Each had a snack while we were there and they do receive a hot lunch. There is a library at school with computers, and the children are allowed in a few at a time to look at the books and learn the computer. We asked if the children have books at home and the principal told us no. Most parents say "books are for school. reading is for school." and do not allow the children to read at home.


The children were sweet, smart, and grateful we were there. And they loved the camera!

 

Before we left, the children said Bible verses and sang a few songs.

If you visit Sandals, I encourage you to take this trip. If you have room in your suitcase, they mostly need pencils and rubbers (erasers). If you don't visit Sandals, you can still donate through the Sandals Foundation link.

 

After that kind of morning, we had a rather quiet day. We played bingo, and I came in second in the "survivor round" -- I lasted the second longest without a single number being called. Pizza for lunch, a little too much beer, a nap, and some reading in the room and outside while Mike played beach volleyball.

We had dinner at Eleanors again, fantastic service once more, and I read a little more while Mike took a nap. I think after all the activity early in the week, we were ready to just chill.

The evening's entertainment was an Afro-Caribbean show, which was entertaining, educational, and hilarious.

Jamoween

Jamaica does not celebrate Halloween, but since the resort was mostly visiting Americans, they had a Jamoween celebration with the house band, then another great band that sang awesome 80s slow jams. Which, by the way, was the soundtrack for the entire week on both live music and recorded. Mike wanted to poke his eyes out.

But let's start with the morning. We signed up for the glass bottomed boat ride at 9:00 am. And yes, if I knew the words to "Fat Bottomed Girls," they would have been stuck in my head the whole time. I knew better than to eat breakfast first, so we did that after. Here are a few photos of the trip.

A shot of the resort from the water

Coral

 

 

Some sort of coral that burns like fire if you touch it. So glad I snorkeled *before* I knew about all of the stuff that could hurt me. This trip was a lot of "don't touch that." Hmmm, note to self: Take the glass bottomed boat ride BEFORE you snorkel. Actually, you might feel like you don't even NEED to snorkel after this.

 

Starfish!

After breakfast I settled in on the French beach for some sun ... and had a very attentive server who was bringing me dirty bananas (like a banana milkshake, with rum) two at a time. The beach bistro was out of Jamaican patties (mmmm, like a pot pie you hold in your hand) so I had some jerk chicken and went to find Mike. We decided to have lunch (I considered the jerk chicken an appetizer) and we visited the Soon Come Back desk to see how much a return trip might cost. Later, I captured some of the resort wildlife.

 

A pelican. I swear they look like pterydactyls when they fly.

These guys were all over. Never caught one showing his tail though.

This little guy didn't know he was taking his life into his own hands when he decided to hang out in our room. I did a capture and release while Mike had a panic attack.

Dressed for dinner. We joined the 'frequent flier' type club for Sandals, which meant we get points for our stays and after 70 nights, we get a free week. So, you know, by the time we retire. Anyway the dinner was a formal affair, with lobster tail and a bunch of foods I can't pronounce, but our dinner compantions were worse than the people we rode the bus with. They wouldn't even talk to me. Eh, we talked to the watersports manager and cut out at dessert to head to the show.  I could swear I had photos of the Jamoween celebration they did before the bands, but apparently not. Silly costumes, drums. Some guy impersonating Michael Jackson. A fun night!

Tuesday: Seasick in Paradise

Tuesday dawned bright and beautiful with yet another lovely breakfast with my husband. This is unique, really, because the man doesn't care for breakfast foods, so while I had eggs, bacon, pastries, and corned beef hash (just like Momma used to make), he was a fruit and smoked salmon kinda guy. As a matter of fact, this morning I not only ate all you see, but took a cream cheese bagel to go, knowing we were going snorkeling later. I didn't want to eat a big lunch before swimming. Which was a good thing. And you'll see why in a moment.

So, I found a quiet spot on the Italian beach and made my own little slice of paradise. Many of these types of huts were reserved for folks who paid for "butler service" (yes, actual English-trained butlers to do their bidding), but I found one to myself and commandeered both seats, one in the sun, one not, for a few hours of reading.

When it was time to snorkel, I went back to the room to meet Mike, but he never appeared. And this man is NEVER late to anything. So I was a little worried he'd already gone missing in the tropics, and my plan was ahead of schedule, but I found him hanging out on one of the couches between the bar and the beach. I'm not sure why I was worried. Nothing EVER starts on time in Jamaica ... "no worries"

If you are paying attention to detail, you noted the title of this post and the previous reference to that cream cheese bagel, and you know how this is going to end. When Mike and I snorkeled in St Lucia, we had a rainy, choppy boat ride to a beautiful, calm, sunny cove with a zillion fish. This time we had a beautiful boat ride to the reef just off the shore of the resort and had low visibility, choppy seas, and dangerously shallow waters. I did not like it, not one little bit, and we both returned early to the boat. While we waited for the others to join us, I got increasingly ill. No more details.  We headed back to the room for a cool washcloth and some ginger ale (hey, when I said our fridge was stocked, I didn't just mean with alcohol). In fact, Mike mentioned to our housekeeper that I was sick and when I awoke, there was a plate of toast and fruit on the bed.

Feeling much better, we dressed for dinner at the seafood restaurant, Neptunes, and spent a while lying on a couch under the stars. The Cafe de Paris serves a delicious cheesecake, and Mike's favorite cookies, but our regular barista wasn't in so the hot chocolate and latte weren't the best. More star gazing in lounge chairs on the French beach and we made it an early night.

Even being seasick in paradise is ok. I've nearly forgotten all about it. This is what I remember....

Jamaica Day 2: Best. Monday. Ever.

I don't think I even realized it was Monday.

Breakfast was fantastic with a buffet that included fruit, pastries, oatmeal, french toast, pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, made-to-order omelets and a local dish. Oh, and they handed you a mimosa or bloody mary as you walked in the door. When they brought me my own little coffee pot, I decided I would never leave.

But eventually, I was stuffed and headed to the pool to chill before my spa appointment.


I went with the mud massage. I knew I needed to exfoliate, but I wanted a massage too, and this was the perfect combo. The spa was quiet and relaxing, and I didn't want to leave.

But I did and headed to the French beach, were the waves were a little higher, the water was clear and there was a nice breeze. Mike was already there, enjoying a cocktail -- see the servers come down to the beach to bring you a fresh drink. ahhhhh

It started to look a little stormy, so we headed to the room for a little nap before dinner on the beach.

The fresh seafood, soups, salads, etc, were great and the beach setting was beautiful. All of the tables faced the ocean and the moon was nearly full.







After dinner, there were trapeze artists and fire ... people.

 



Then the house band played and there was a conga line, which we joined. We learned a few reggae dance moves. They are exactly like Zumba, by the way. Then it was time for the afterparty in the martini bar. There weren't many folks there, so we sat right up front and sang.... No photos here, but I sang "These Boots are Made for Walking" and "(I Never Promised You) A Rose Garden" and Mike did "Sweet Caroline." Such fun!

Back to the room very late, but another fantastic day, for sure.

Jamaica Day 1: travel didn't slow us down

We've been to Jamaica and St. Lucia to all-inclusive resorts and Jamaica is by far our favorite place. It isn't quite as close to the equator, so not as hot, but the people are so kind and welcoming. We love the Sandals/Beaches chain and likely won't try another. For this trip we left early on a Sunday morning....

Daddy came to get us at 4:00 am since our flight was at 6:00. Normally I would not leave that early, but traveling internationally means they have to do extra passport checks, plus Mike is a hot mess, so we needed the extra time.

And I'm not just saying that. Mike's backpack was chosen for extra screening, where they take everything out then do a chemical test on the bag. It alarmed. He got a full patdown. He wasn't worried until they asked him if he wanted a private room. We have no idea what could have triggered the alarm, but he made sure the travel candles were in his checked baggage on the way home.

We had time in Atlanta for breakfast, but couldn't convince the gate agent to upgrade us. Even though I have platinum status, I got our tickets with points (yes, we flew for FREE), so upgrades were not available. To set the mood for the trip, the agent played Jamaican music and asked trivia questions.

The flight was uneventful, but I completely freaked out when someone about 15 places in front of me in Customs said "this is like waiting in line at Holiday World, without the fun ride at the end." Seriously. A group of students from Indianapolis was in front of us.
It was a 90 minute bumpy bus ride to the resort. Good thing they had free beer in the airport lounge. I was nice and chill all the way, even though the roads were an abomination. Our traveling companions were stuffy old Californians who talked about living in Simi Valley, working in Burbank, and driving Mercedes, so we just enjoyed the views. For instance, even though we've had Suzy the Suzuki since the end of May, I haven't seen another Suzuki on the road since. They were all over Jamaica, though. We saw more of the "Jamaican construction" in action --- as was explained on our last visit, Jamaicans build their houses as they can afford the materials and labor. So, while you may see a house under construction that looks abandoned, it isn't. The owners are saving for the next phase. Here is an example from our trip in March 2011:

  



We arrived at the resort tired and toasty, so cool lavender-scented towels and champagne were a nice little welcome party. We had booked a concierge room, so we were taken to a separate lobby to check in and had a little rum punch. Sandals Whitehouse European Village has three separate areas, Italian, Dutch and French.
 

Our room in the Italian Village was beautiful, with a fourth floor balcony and beach view.  It also had a fully stocked fridge, including champagne, which Mike served to me in a giant wine glass. Italian Village is known as the 'quietest' on the resort, but is also closest to the main pool, game room, and restaurants. Believe it or not, we were not tired, and couldn't wait for dinner. We headed to the italian restaurant for a pizza and salad snack, then did a quick resort tour. I highly recommend you attend the main resort tour at 10am for the full experience, but since this was our third visit to a resort, we went with the quick version.

 

Actually, even though it was our travel day, and we'd been up since 3:30 am, we were really excited to participate in all of the activities. We chose to have dinner in the one formal restaurant, Eleanor's (by formal, we mean Mike had to wear pants). White glove service, fantastic food, and a decadent dessert named "Magic Moment for Two". Really great. There was a "pre-appetizer" of cheese and hummos. I had the crab cakes to start, then the snapper with bacon potatoes. And I've never seen so much silverware in a place setting. Thankfully I knew to "start from the outside" and our server whisked away the unnecessary pieces with each course. We sat for a while on the piazza with a latte and listed to LaShawna sing before heading to the opera presentation at 8pm. I don't think I've ever heard opera (unless there's been some on Dancing with the Stars"), but this guy was great (Puccini, Ave Maria, Van Gogh, Josh Groban, musicals) ... Mike ended up buying his CD. We headed to the Caberet for some music from the house band and watched the "Newlywed/Not So Newlywed Game". Couples had been married anywhere from 8 days to 41 years and it was a hoot, for sure. We stayed and listened to some jazz until the disco opened in the martini bar. I think we got back to the room after 1am, maybe 2am. And I think it was our best day there.

 

 

Myrtle Beach

Back in June, we took our annual girl's vacation to Myrtle Beach.  I've added a few posts to chronicle our adventures.

On the Way There

Quotes from Vacation

Here's a summary of our week:

As far as activities go, we didn't have the best weather. If we had known what the rest of the week would be like we might have left the shopping for later in the week.
Anyway, we hit the outlet mall and the beach shops. They all have great specials to get you in the door. $1 seashells! Umbrellas $4.99!! Some stores even claim NOTHING OVER $5.99.  But be sure you read the fine print. This cracked me up till I nearly wet myself. Yes, nothing over 5.99. Special Section. Available only on items priced $5.99 and under.

 



We found a Chinese buffet for a late lunch/early dinner, and that was Monday.

Tuesday was rainy. We got the requisite wildlife shots.

 

 

More wild life.....

 





I've found there are few flatter photos of me being whacked by waves. This is the only one you are getting.

And this was the lifeguard at 8am. Our play in the surf lasted less than an hour before everyone gave up. 

But I rented an umbrella and beach chairs, darnit, and I was staying.  That rain would blow over.

Eventually.

Right?  Yeah, not so much. This was me by 9am.

I stuck it out for hours. Eventually I built a rain screen out of various towels, and yes, that IS a thirty-one About Town Blanket with the waterproof side facing out. I got a lot of reading done, but not so much sunning. There were fireworks later that night. We could see them in the distance, but no one was much in the mood to venture out.

 

Thankfully, by Thursday we had some sun. And we built our own sunshades in addition to our rentals.

 

 

Later in the afternoon, we hit the boardwalk downtown and had dinner at Dirty Don's Oyster Bar. The menu was a hoot and made us miss Jamie and Rylee. And PJ.

We hung out downtown till dark and got some great photos.

 

Friday was another great weather day. That head in the middle of the photo is me jumping a wave.

 

Finally, it was time to come home. We decided to drive straight through -- Mom helped with the driving, but unfortunately we hit some monster traffic that added three hours to our travel time. At one point we traveled only 10 miles in 90 minutes. We also made about 10 stops on the way home. Snacks, potty breaks, etc. It made for a really long day, and we were both happy to be home. I have a photo of the traffic, but blogger is freaking out over the number of photos in this post already, so you'll have to imagine.

 

All in all, we had a fantastic time. I miss the beach .... but I've only got a couple of months before I go to Jamaica, so I'll try not to complain in the meantime.