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The flight was well worth it, I was treated to some amazing meetings up there in the snowy North.

I finally got to meet my friend Spoonman, who was as charming and delightful in person as he is online.

But the real treat was meeting my new nephew Adam (picture to follow), and spending a whole lot of newborn snuggling time with him. He is so sweet and perfect.

And as I was holding him, feeding him and generally inhaling him--my older nephew, D. called on my cell phone. He chatted about college, his job, his current reading material (my book and Al Franken--smart kid) and I thought, I hope my baby nephew grows up to be as sweet as my big baby nephew.

I hate to fly

But despite that, I'm off. Amy and I are packed and ready to go up to Ohio for a long weekend with my new nephew. I am quite looking forward to seeing everyone, even though I hate to fly. I hate to fly even more so sober, which I'll have to be with Amy.

I do feel quite badly about leaving, however. It seems like I'm abandoning the men folk around here at a particularly busy time. It's then end of soccer and start of baseball, so things got a doubled up for the weekend. And, I hate to fly.

I borrowed a laptop (mine is being repaired) so I won't be totally offline, just more so than usual, which isn't necessarily a bad thing.

But flying is. Did I mention I hate to fly?

Tuesdays

Tuesday is quickly becoming one of my favorite days of the week.

What began as an attempt at "date night," a babysitter has been secured for every Tuesday evening. Sean's current travel schedule has made the original date night idea a physical impossibility, so these Tuesdays, I date myself.

After running a few errands which are considerably easier to do without help from a two year old, I usually end up wandering the aisles of a bookstore followed by dinner alone somewhere with my nose in a book.

So...

Tuesdays taste like a warm tall mocha latte.

Tuesdays feel like a newly cracked spine of a novel.

Tuesdays smell like Jasmine rice.

Tuesdays sound like whatever I decide plays on the car stereo.

Tuesdays look like heaven.

I'm Baaackk..For a Minute Anyway...

1500 miles, 5 days, 8 inches of snow.

We're home. Not too long ago, as a matter of sad fact. (Sad that I felt compelled to write at 11:00 at night after waking at 4:30 this morning to drive home from the snow-capped mountain.

Anyway, we had a great time. The introduction of snow into the children's life experience was a positive one. Nature did us a huge solid by providing a beautiful snowstorm for us to enjoy from the mountain condo. We tubed. We sled. We skied. We ate. We drank (a lot. There were two other families who drove from Tampa to BFE to do so.) I slept. Some.

Other highlights included:

Stevie learning to ski. He took right to it, just like his mother whose muscles remembered which way down was.

Matty tubing by himself. This was a major victory since he was less than excited at the prospect, but after a couple of runs on my lap, decided he could not only go it alone, but become the Safety Harbor Flying Tomato.

Amy in a snowsuit. Needless to say, she didn't exactly love the cold stuff on her bare feet, but she was adorable with only frozen curls peeking out. She did love tubing, though.

Good friends. Spending a long weekend with lots of people is a good time.

Me finally giving up Dr. Zhivago in earnest. I figured that if snow falling all around me, hours of uninterrupted reading time, hot cocoa and Olympic hockey playing in the background couldn't coax me into this book, then nothing will. I opted for a 6 year old issue of Country Living, instead.

I returned to a full plate of fun news, my nephew entered the world a month early, so I will fly up in a couple of days to meet him. I am looking forward to that more than I can say.

Missed you, though.

And I am outta here...

Well, tomorrow we're headed off for the mountains for an introduction to this thing they call, "snow." 2 out of the 3 minors have never seen it, so we're going to submerge them in it for a few days in NC.

I'm sort of looking forward to a getaway, although the 12 hour drive to and fro will be no picnic, but I suppose I will get into the spirit as soon as I chew on my first Twizzler going down I-75...

Have a nice weekend, folks.

Back to Reality

OK, I've come down a bit after the weekend fun. Now that the number is 3 and sometimes four digits, I care less for it than when it was a dozen. ;)

So, that leaves the rest of my life which is busy enough. Another round of tests for Amy this week--hearing this time--so that is joyous fun. I finished a nice read, Best Friends, by Martha Moody, and I've picked up Dr. Zhivago again for the tenth time. Earlier this week I had a raging case of insomnia, and the good Russian doctor is curing it nicely. I just feel too gulity not to finish a book.

That's my Thursday story, folks. Weekend fancy doings and then a little getaway to the mountains next week. I know you can't wait to hear all about it.

117 was soooo yesterday...

I ate 117 for breakfast.

This morning, it remains at 15 on the B&N "Hot List"--which is based on sales for an hourly period. I am beyond any measure of excitement and complete humbled awe over that.

117...

117?

This number could represent the number of hate letters delivered to Barnes and Noble.com so far. It could designate the number of lashes with a bamboo cane I will receive. It could even be the enjoyment tax charged yesterday for being so happily overwhelmed at the book release.

I have no idea what the Barnes and Noble Sales Rank Number is, but I suspect that 117 is respectable.

Right? (And please don't kill my self-delusional buzz if it's not.)

The 5th greatest day of my life

My Book

OKay, behind the births of my children and wedding day, of course.

But this was like giving birth in a way so it’s right up there.

It was so surreal to see this—my mind hasn’t fully grasped it yet. I am curiously calm, but with the knowledge that my composure is short-lived and will soon dissolve into joyous tears when the full impact reaches my nerve-endings.