Gunfighter: A Modern Warrior's Life

How I Spent My Summer Vacation (3)







I know that I told told you that I was going to talk about our departure from Georgia and our drive to Orlando for the next leg of our vacation, but I’m not going to do that today.  Sorry.  The reason that I am not going to do it is that we had another stop to make before got to the land of Mickey Mouse and happy-happy, joy-joy!

 

Once we left St. Simons Island, we were on I-95 south in no time at all, and shortly after that, we crossed out of Georgia, into The Sunshine State! Please note that the sun was shining just as much in Florida as it was in Georgia.  Anyway, we were in Florida, mighty glad we were, because we were about to do something really cool… we were going to St. Augustine!

 

Crickets.

 

Oh, I know what you are thinking.  You are probably thinking: “What’s so cool about St. Augustine?”  Well, I’ll tell you, this:  It ain’t the beach.  Okay, St. Augustine isn’t a bad place, but it isn’t the place that makes people jump up and down either.  So why do I say that it was cool?  Because St. Augustine houses a few treasures that not enough people know about.  The first is the Castillo De San Marco.  The Castillo (pronounced cas-tee-yo) might be a place that you aren’t familiar with, because of the crappy history that is taught to our young people.  Most of the history of exploration and colonization of North America is taught from and Anglo-centric view, which frequently downplays and sometimes outright ignores not only the role of France, but also that of Spain to an even greater degree.

 

The town of St. Augustine was born in September of 1565, when Don Pedro Aviles claimed the place in the name of the Spanish King, Phillip II.  Anyway, after driving out some French settlers on the St. John River, he fortified that town.  It should remembered that the Spanish that Spain established the first permanent settlement in North America more than forty years before the English established Jamestown, and more than 50 years before the pilgrims landed at Plymouth.  The town flourished and after a number of raids by English pirates the Spanish crown, in 1702, authorized the building of a stone fort.  The fort protected the town, and despite sieges and attacks, it was never conquered.

 

Okay… history lesson over… for now.  So the Castillo is still there and it is really a great place to see.  Not only does it have a covered walkway (a place where troops could serve artillery, or where infantry could move from place to place without being exposed to enemy fire), it has troop berthing spaces, a church to see to the spiritual needs of the soldiers, and an impressive deck for the placement of the great 32 and 42 pounder cannon that were the Castillo’s main armament.  It should be remembered that this town and it's fort represent the geographical high-water mark of Spanish colonialism in North America

 

Isn't it a beauty?

 

 

 

 

 

OK, so… we didn't spent too much time at the Castillo on this trip, as we had other fish to fry (do you love fried fish? I certainly do… as a matter of fact, I think that I am going to cook panko crusted Tilapia this Friday evening. Mmmm!)  So, we crossed the street from the Castillo and proceeded to George street, where there is a sort of funky, bohemian shopping area. Naturally, we skipped the funky, bohemian stuff because that really isn't our gig, and proceed to a small, unassuming, unremarkable building, which bears a sign for the Saint Photios (pronounced Fo-shus) National Greek Orthodox Shrine.

 

Now, if you aren't an adherent to the Orthodox church you might not think that this means much of anything, but you would be wrong, and oh-so-shallow! The St. Photios shrine is a wonderful, living example of the narrative of the first significant Greek presence in the United States. You see, in 1768, a man named Andrew Turnbull decided that he was going to settle in the area that later became New Smyrna, and that he was going to need labor for his plantations… well who better than Greeks and other Mediterraneans who might not be disinclined to work in the Florida heat. This same gentleman took a heck of a lot longer to get things going than he planned and once he did, he failed miserably. The Greek population of his platations moved in large part to the St. Augustine area, which by this time was in British hands (the British having traded Havana, Cuba to the Spanish Crown for possession of St. Augustine). The Avero house, where the shrine now stands became the focal point for Greek society, culture, and faith in the region.

The shrine is as beautiful inside as it is outside, and is something that you should see, whether you are Orthodox or not. There are splendid icons, vaulted ceilings, a place for prayer, and a new exhibit of the history of the Greeks in Florida. There is also a great gift shop that I am certain that you would enjoy. The shrine is run by Polexeni (Polly) Maouris-Hillier, and if you ever get there, please take a few minutes to chat with her about the place. She is a treasure.

 

 

 

After leaving the shrine, we went back to the car and headed down the fabled A1A through St. Augustine Beach to the even lesser known bit of St. Augustine's history, the U.S. National Park Service Fort Matanzas site. Fort Matanzas, shown below, was built around the same time as the Castillo de San Marco, it's purpose was to defend the Castillo or at least give warning in case the British decided to launch a riverine sneak attack up the Saint Johns river.

 

I know that Matanzas doesn't look like much, but believe me when I tell you that it is the stuff that anyone interested in the American colonial period can't help but love. Consider: St. Augustine is the northernmost Spanish town in the Americas, but it has farms, walls, a church, a monastic community, and a big honkin' fort! Matanzas? Well… not so much. It must have been lonely there, nearly three hundred years ago. Can you imagine that? The sole aim of the soldiers there was to watch out for British marauders… who never actually went that way. It isn't believed that the fort's artillery EVER fired a shot in anger.

As you can see from the photos below, Matanzas is still a rather lonely place, accessible only by water (dig the hat on park ranger Olivia, who is the first mate on the boat).

 

 

 

I love this place. I do… it is an amazing piece of history, and I hope that if you are ever in the St. Augustine area, you go and see these things, you will truly be glad that you did.

OK, have you had enough of a history lesson? I am sure that you have, so I will end the lesson here, as it is not time to get back on the road (and hey, it is only noon-ish… how's that for packing the time just right?!).

Back on the road, we made our way back to I-95, heading for I-4, which takes us from east to west, and to Orlando.

I'll pick-up more of the story then, because now I need to go to make lasagna before I got to choir rehearsal.

How I spent My Summer Vacation (2)

So, after a full night of sleep, we rose at a normal hour and put ourselves together for departure. We were on the road by 9-ish, and headed south. Which is when we hit our first snag: We had the wrong power cord for Soccer Girl's DVD player. Fortunately, we were only three quarters of a mile away from home. Good dad that I try to be, I didn't get mad… I didn't lose my cool. I just turned around, went back home, and got the cord that I thought was right. We headed back out, got on the highway, and were on our way!

   

Mrs. GF and Soccer Girl had planned to play the license plate game to see how many states we could count on our trip, and by the time we left our subdivision, we already had Virginia Tennessee, and New York. By the time we passed the Marine Corps base at Quantico (4 miles from our house) we had counted New Jersey, Pennsylvania, North Carolina and one or two others.

   

 We were cruising along and after a short time, SG decided she was ready to watch a movie, so she fired up her DVD player… or tried to. Apparently the cord that I went back to the house for, wasn't the right one either. Ah, well… she was just going to have to do without, and enjoy her multiple books and her MP3 player instead.

   

In practically no time, we made it through Richmond and Petersburg and crossed into North Carolina. We stopped for a quick lunch, and then nipped into Wal-Mart (this was in Roanoke Rapids, in case geography is your thing) to get a power cord. Instead of buying a power cord, we ended up getting a new DVD player, as buying a power cord would have cost as much money. Now, at this point you are probably thinking that this was a really indulgent thing to do, and you might be right, but from our perspective it was a relatively small price to pay to keep a certain eleven year old from getting bored on the long drive ahead of us.

   

OK, so… food and power issues resolved, we got back on the road on a beautiful (hot) sunny August day and did what we always do when we drive together. We talked. We talked about all sorts of stuff… my oddball brother, Mrs. GF's oddball mother, and all sorts of things.

   

The rest of the ride was full of the usual… looking at license plates, getting gas, looking at some the same billboards that we always see, taking note of the sometimes strange people that you always see on the road, and noticing that the corn in North Carolina was burning up in our hot, dry, summer.

By 6 PM, we were tired, but had almost arrived at our destination, and were getting off of I-95 at Brunswick, Georgia. We stopped at Zaxby's for a quick dinner...

   

   

...before driving over the F.J. Torras causeway to Saint Simons Island. We were staying at the same condominium that we used last year, and as soon as we grabbed the keys at the office, we quickly settled into our unit and went into immediate relaxation mode.

   

I hope you don't mind but I am going to throw a plug here, because I belive in supporting businesses that treat me well and give me good value for my money. If you ever decide to visit St. Simons Island, do yourself a favor and make your accommodations through Hodnett Cooper. They have lots of nice properties on the island and are responsive to their customers. We stayed at the Salt Air villas and loved the place. The unit (a one bedroom) was large, airy, and well-appointed. This was our second time staying there and we will be there again if I have anything to say about it (and I do).

   

   

So, what do you do on a coastal island in the summer, when the sun is shining and you are on vacation? I'll tell you what you do, you go to the beach! So that is what we did. I'll tell you something… St. Simons Island isn't what I would call a national beach vacation destination, and I think that this is a realllly good thing; because the beaches are wide, flat and at the time we usually take our vacations, nearly empty.

   

(Chillin', despite the heat)

   

We spent a few hours in the water and being warmed by the sun before going back to the condo to shower and change, before we went about the rest our day.

   

While we were on St. Simons, we stuck, pretty much to our routing of going to the beach in the morning, and then out and about doing the togetherness thing. One of the places that we never miss while we are there is the G.J. Ford book shop

   

   

This is a real, privately owned, book shop. It has an eclectic collection of titles, and despite its size, I challenge you to be unable to find something of interest. Fortunately, I married a woman who is always looking for the main prize in a bookstore, and on out trip to this shop, I left with a pearl of great price, a cookbook called: Glorious Grits.

   

   

One of our evenings we had the opportunity to spend an evening with some friends of ours who used to live in our area and moved to St. Simons several years ago. We met them for dinner, and then went to their house for desert. It was great to see them, and we try to spend a few hours with them every time we are on the island.

   

I won't tell you the sad tale of the breaking of my Blackberry… suffice it to say that I got it fixed.

   

All too soon, our visit to St. Simons Island was over. We had spent four days/nights, enjoying each other's company, eating fun food, hanging out on the beach, and reading much-anticipated vacation books. We had fun, and while we were sad to be leaving St. Simons, we were excited about the fact that the next morning (after a last walk on the beach) we were headed to The Happiest Place on Earth.

How I spent My Summer Vacation (1)

…and we got home in almost thirteen hours, which is not bad when you consider the unexplained mechanical problem with the van, in  Lumberton, North Carolina!

 

Wow, what a blast!  An awesome, restful, fun, exciting, and totally Gunfighter family vacation, and now you know all about it.

 

Oh… I didn’t write that stuff yet, did I?  Well, I guess I had better be about it, then, eh?

 

OK, here is the deal:  Like most of the people that are going to read this, my family life is rather busy.  Between my daughter being in school, and being involved in Girl Scouts, year-round soccer, and church activities, she has a lot going on, which, by extension, means that Mrs. GF and I have a lot going on… well, Mrs. GF has her text book adoption committee, and church website committee, and all sorts of stuff, so she is busy, too.  Me?  I drive and cook.  Anyway, we all spend a lot of time just running around and getting things done.  Even our weekends are busy.  Yeah, yeah, I know… cry me a river, right?  Well, not so much.  My whole point in saying this is to point out that, like you, we are busy, and by the time the end of summer rolls around, we all need a break.

 

Enter the Gunfighter family vacation!

 

If you have known me for a while, you already know that our summer vacations have a certain level of sameness from year to year, in terms of where we go… but you know something? No two vacations are ever alike.

 

This year got started just like any other trip… there was the pre-vacation period that begins in early January, when I make our reservations… and there is the long, eight month period of preparation.  “Wait a minute, dude?  Are you telling me that you spend the next eight months GETTING READY TO GO ON VACATION?”  Well, yeah… duh!? Preparation is part of the fun, so why not draw it out as long as you can?

 

Anyway, we spent the time saving our money, loading our two boxes of “must have” items, particularly things for my “traveling kitchen” (don’t look at me like that… I cook when I travel).  We also spend a fair amount of time talking about where we are going, and what we are planning to do when we get there (we seldom stick to plans, but they are fun to make), and playing vacation related games as in: “I am thinking of a fast food restaurant, a kind that we don’t have in Virginia, but we get to eat there in August” and things like that.  (Oh, the answer to that question is:  Zaxby’s)

 

Before too long, the weather turns warm, we enter spring soccer, and look forward to the end of the school year.  Once school gets out, we are in the immediate pre-vacation zone and the next thing you know, after summer camp and reluctant visits to see the in-laws (well, actually, only Mrs. Gunfighter and Soccer Girl have to go, which means I totally WIN), it is time to pack up and GO!

 

I won’t bore you with packing details, but I will tell you that in my family, travelling to our destination is as much a part of the vacation as the rest of it, so on the evening before we depart, Soccer Girl and I like to make our mode of transportation a bit festive.

 

 
 
 
 

So, we were all ready and it was almost time to go.  The dog was at the kennel, the newspaper had been stopped, the sprinkler on the deck had the timer installed so Mrs. GF's plants wouldn't die, after a final meal and a good night of sleep, it was time to go.

 

 

Tomorrow:  Bring On The Beach!

Guest Blogger Anali: The Color Red

I haven't looked at my blog in a few days (I have an end-of-summer headcold), but I noticed that one of my vacation guest-blogger's post didn't launch as scheduled... turns out I didn't schedule it properly... well, since my friend was willing to help me out, I am going to post this even though I have been back to work for a few days already.

Please meet, my friend Anali!  She writes about food and all sorts of things at her blog.  I am pleased to tell you that this lady was one of my first blog-buddies, and I am proud to know her.

Off we go!

 

Red is bright.  

And bold.  

It doesn't take "no" for an answer. 

Red demands "yes!" 

I've been drinking a lot coffee in red mugs lately. 

 
Coffee calms me down. 

And picks me up. 

I recently read this article called Why Everyone Should Wear Red All the Time.

It didn't mention anything about red mugs. 

 
 

That had me seeing red! 

I was hoping to find an answer. 

For this sudden infatuation,  

with rouge caffeine containers. 

But nothing more was said. 
 

 

Lisa Johnson blogs about life, food, and current events at Anali's First Amendment.

Gunfighter says:  Go read her blog right now!

 

Home!

After a nearly thirteen hour drive, we arrived home at 9 P.M. last night.

We had a great time on our vacatioan, and I will have lots to tell you about in the coming days.

 

GF

 

Freedom Isn’t Free (not by a long shot!)

You have heard the term "Freedom Isn't Free", haven't you? If you have never heard it spoken, you are almost certain to have seen it on someone's t-shirt, book tote, or as a large sticker on someone's car or truck. Mrs. GF and I saw a car with one of those stickers on it today, while we were heading to Disney's Animal kingdom (Soccer Girl wanted to see some more animals… could I say no?)

Anyway it made me think, and it started an oft-repeated conversation between us. I'll shorten the conversation down to its most salient point, which for me is this: Those friggin' t-shirts, stickers, banners, and signs really piss me off. Do you know why they piss me off? Well, I'll tell you. That particular sentiment is a favorite of Republican/Conservative/Libertarian/Tea Party whack-jobs who chant "USA! USA!" out of one side of their faces while whining about the federal government and paying taxes out of the other.

Personally, I don't get it… how can we shout defiantly that "Freedom Isn't Free" while complaining about the costs? How can the anti-tax nimrods continually natter about President Obama's spending, while having been silent about the orgy of spending perpetrated by his predecessor? How can we say "Stay in Iraq/Afghanistan as long as it takes to finish the job" (that would be the job that Mr. Bush was never able to define), without counting the cost? Never mind the cost of lost lives and limbs… because the whack-job right doesn't care about our soldiers and Marines getting maimed or killed. After all, if they cared, they wouldn't be so effing happy to have sent those men and women to war for no good reasons in the first place... but I digress.

Look, wars cost money. Wars cost an unholy sum of money… numbers that the average person couldn't even being to visualize. The cost of ammunition; the cost of replacement parts; the cost of tanks, aircraft, and trucks… not to mention the gas/oil that it takes to fuel them, is beyond astronomical. The costs of equipping soldiers and Marines alone is staggering, to say nothing about the cost of equipping the sailors and airmen that are in the war zones.

Let's get away from wars for a moment, because our freedoms and our safety aren't just about the military are they? Of course they aren't. When you have a car is stolen or when your kids go missing, you don't call the 82^nd airborne division… you call the police. When you fall down the stairs in a household ambulance, you call your local EMS paramedics. When there is a house fire or a car fire, there are firefighters rushing to assist to you as best they can. That stuff costs money, too.

You know, the military, our intelligence services (who have secret budgets you and I will never know about), and our Police/Fire/EMS and other first responders aren't the only guarantors of our freedom. One of the other guarantors of our freedom is education. Because we all know that an educated citizenry is the first defense against tyranny, don't we? Well guess what, warriors? Public Education is the best way to make sure the largest possible number of people in our society is at least basically educated. That costs money, too.

You see, we all want things. We want fire protection, we want police and EMS services, we want a strong military, we want to be educated, we want air safety, we want safe roads, and we want government services that we feel that we need (and those services will vary depending on your age, health, income level, etc…). What Americans are really twisted up about is paying for the things that we want. Somehow, a significant proportion of the American populace has gotten into their heads, that they can have all of the things that they want, fight two wars at the same time, and cut taxes. That math doesn't work, warriors. It doesn't work at all.

No sir, freedom isn't free… and blood isn't the only price. As a matter of fact, blood is the cheapest price there is, because we have so much of it. Freedom isn't free, because freedom costs an awful lot of money. That money has to come from somewhere, warriors, and guess where that is? Yup, you got it! It is coming from your pockets. I know you don't like it, but there it is.

You want a new moon rocket/heavy launch vehicle? You have to pay for it.

You want a new class of submarines? You have to pay for it.

You want roads? You have to pay for them.    

Not enough firefighters in your town? Uh huh… pony up!

Personally, I don't like paying taxes for a lot of things that our money gets spent on. No sir, there are some things that I don't like one little bit, but I'll tell you what: you'll never hear me carping about paying taxes, because paying taxes pays for those roads that I mentioned, and the teachers and others that staff our schools, and to our police and fire services. The money that I… that we pay in taxes funds our awesome armed forces (you may have noticed that we haven't sent our folks to war with a few shotguns and muskets). Paying for those things is my duty as an American citizen, and good Americans are attentive to their duty.

So there you have it. Paying your taxes is paying for your freedom. Complaining about it only makes you seem like a spoiled child who doesn't want to take a bath, even though taking a bath is exactly what the child needs.

Now, can you people please shut up, quit your whining grow a scab and pay your share without cheating?

A Thank You (video)

 

 

(I recorded this about a week ago)

Cooking with Gunfighter (with Pictures!)

Even when we are on vacation, I cook. Yes, I know that vacations are supposed to be about rest and relaxation, and they are for me… believe it. The thing is, eating out all the time would get really boring… not only for me, but for my family as well.

I don't cook every night when we are on vacation, but I do on most evenings, and last night was not different. Last night, as is our Saturday night custom at home, we went to Whole Foods (and boy, let me tell you, the Whole Foods, here in Orlando, is a whole different place than the one in Springfield, Virginia!) and got all of the stuff that we needed to make pizzas, and then went "home" to settle in for some TV time and some good chow.

While Bridezillas and other scintillating shows were on, I was about to roll out our pizza dough (whole wheat), when I realized that our kitchen didn't have a rolling pin! The lack of a rolling pin could have been a major deal breaker, so I used my McGyver-like intuitive skills, and decided to use a large beer bottle (1 pint, 6 ounces) that I had sitting on the counter that I was going to use in a beer review*.

 

Having rolled out our dough into a quasi-circular shape (I admit that I thought the dough was shaped vaguely like Australia) I brushed it with white clam sauce. Yes, I know people brush pizza dough with olive oil, and yes, I have olive oil in the cabinet, but hey, this is my recipe, ok? So, after brushing with white clam sauce, I sprinkled that dough with a bit of Italian seasoning, garlic powder, and parmesan cheese (all amounts to taste, of course).

 

Next I spread some of the sausage that was already browned and diced (I used spicy cilantro chicken sausage), and then used the cheese grater to grate some gorgonzola picante around the dough (not too much, mind you, because that is strong cheese). Finally, I sprinkled that "fiesta blend" cheese and the remains of the sausage on the dough, and we were oven-ready.

 

 

 

 

I baked the pizza at 385 (Fahrenheit for those that might be reading from the metric lands) for about 15 minutes, until it was all golden on top! Here are your results. For the sake of full disclosure, I have to report that I made two pizzas one for me and the Mrs. and one for Soccer Girl. Soccer Girl's pizza was mad the same, except that I used Kalamata olives instead of sausage (hey, she has her own tastes, you know?).

 
Now, tell me that doesn't look good!

 

So, last week, I mentioned that I was going to go back to my blooging roots and start writing for me again. I also mentioned that I was going to "Write hard" as my friend Becky calls it. Well, I hope that at least some of you remember, this is what I spent a lot of time talking about on the old blog.

I like to cook, I like to eat, I like to write. There it is.

 

• The beer was called "Beer of The Gods", from the "High & Mighty Beer Co." It is described as "unfiltered, unpasteurized and uncompromised hoppy blonde beer". It should have been called "Syphillitic Mule Piss of The Gods". I have never tasted worse beer in my life. Never… and trust me, warriors, I have made the consumption of good beer (and good vittles) part of my life's work (which is why I resemble a chocolate brown Jabba The Hut, but I digress), and I know good beer from bad. I am telling you quite seriously, this beer was bloody awful. Don't drink it, even on a lark.

 

Updates, News, & Other Random Thoughts

You know, I have been a bad blogger of late.

I have let (all six ) of my readers/friends down. I just haven't been putting as much into my blog as I have in years past. I want to tell you, my friends, that it's not you, it's me. The good news is that I am not breaking up with you… and you sure as hell had better not be breaking up with me… I mean, who really needs a well-armed stalker?

Um… anyway, as I was saying: It isn't you, it's me. I have just been seriously busy and distracted for the past several (ok eight or ten) months. I think I told you that I got a promotion… oh, thank you, thank you! I won't bore you with false humility; I earned that friggin' promotion thank-you-very-much! Ahem, well getting promoted meant I that I have been as busy as ever, and with after school scheduling issues, let's just say that I don't have as much time on my hands as I used to. All of this is said to explain a few things, tell you what is coming here at A Modern Warrior's Life , and to follow-up on a few posts and discussions.

 

 

Bear with me while I clear the air.

 

• Heartfelt congratulations and blessings to two people that I am pleased to call great friends, Brother Mick McIntyre who was recently ordained by the Lutheran Church in Canada, has recently been installed as the Pastor of his own parish in Alberta. Likewise, my lovely friend Suzanne has been ordained by the Episcopal Church (USA), and will be reporting for duty as an associate Priest at a parish in New York City. These two people have hearts that are dedicated to the service of God and His church, and I am proud to call them my friends.

 

• Regarding my mother. I reported to you folks in February, that I had to go back to my hometown because my mother was at death's door with cancer. I think that I told you, despite what the Doctors said, that she left the hospital the day after my visit, and went home. I don't think that I have brought you up to speed on the rest of the tale. My mother, within two months of leaving the hospital, has been declared cancer-free. You heard me… I said cancer-free. While I realize that remission can last as short as several weeks, but at this point, every minute that she gets to remain above ground, should be counted as an incredible victory over the odds. There are people that scoff at the notion of miracles. I am not among their number.

 

• In the past year, I have read several books and reviewed them. Some books, I reviewed just because I wanted to share my thoughts with you, and some because I had been solicited by the publishers. One of the books that I read was called American Apocalypse, by an author who goes by the enigmatic name, Nova. Anyway, Nova had been reading and commenting at my blog even before I knew of his book, and when we discussed it, he had a copy sent to me. I read the book, and enjoyed it immensely. I told this fine gentleman that I would like to review his book and publish that review along with an interview here at my blog. Well, to my great shame, even though I interviewed this man, I haven't gotten around to posting it, for which I owe Nova a profound apology. I plan to make amends very soon.

   

• I also plan to bring you another interview with author Brigadier General AJ Tata. General Tata was a fine army officer, who is using the proceeds from his action adventure novels to support the Wounded Warrior Project. Be on the lookout, because that should be fun.

   

• I wanted to use this space for another reason tonight… or this morning… (It is nearly 3 AM as I write this, on a bit of a Vicodin buzz, as I really did something bad to my back today, and I don't think that it is in my interest to lie down). Anyway, I wrote about my next door neighbor a week or so ago and asked for some advice on how to mention her obvious pregnancy. Well, I received all sorts of comments and wisdom from many of you, and I did what I thought was best: I kept my yap shut. I didn't say a word, but wouldn't you know it, I saw her boyfriend in the gas station a week or so later, and he gave me the scoop. I was still determined to say nothing about it to my neighbor, because her behavior clearly said: "Don't say anything" Well, on Wednesday morning, as I was loading the last few vacation items into the car, we had a nice wee chat about the coming baby (a chat that she initiated). She couldn't be happier about the arrival of the baby, which should be in November. I am happy that she is happy.

   

• I have an idea for a book or series of books rattling around in my head. I may actually write a proposal and shop this one around.

   

So that is what is happening, folks.  You'll be hearing from me soon... but for now, Mickey Mouse is beckoning, and we are on our way to the Magic Kingdom. 

Guest Blogger: Becky

Please welcome my blog buddy Becky, the creative force behind the blog "Deep Muck, Big Rake". Becky has graciously decided to favor me (and you) by guest posting while I sit on the beach, and do other vacation-like things with my family.   Take it away, Backy!

 

Hi, I'm Becky from Deep Muck Big Rake. I understand Gunfighter is away on his summer vacation, so I'm here to talk about mine.

What did I do on my summer vacation? I stepped foot on a plane, which I swore I'd never do again. The last time I did was a nightmare. It was also when Gunfighter wrote a guest post for me.  Looks like I was due for both

We went to Norway for the summer.

"What a luxury!" someone said when they heard that.

Funny, I never thought of it like that because, well, that's where we go if I want my children to see their family. Yes, it's expensive to renew passports and buy plane tickets. But we've always believed that spending time with family is a necessity, not a luxury.

In any case, I'm glad I broke my vow against air travel (although I went with a different airline). It was the first time I traveled alone with the kids, and I'll admit I was anxious. They were amazing, and everything went off without a hitch. We were there for six incredible weeks. (My husband caught up with us three weeks later.) It did us good to be there. The kids spent lots of time with their cousins, aunt, uncle and grandparents, as well as extended family and friends.

 

We climbed mountains, went fishing, rode a ferry or two and climbed some more mountains. While my husband was there, he climbed the mountain behind his parents' house six times. (You've got to climb the mountains while you can!) He often got up in the morning before everyone else and was up the mountain and back before we got going for the day. His last hike before we left was with some childhood friends.  

Now I'm putting photos together, so we can savor the memories we made.  

What did you do this summer?

Thanks a million, Becky!  I really appreciate the help.  Now, you floks go read Becky's blog.  You will be glad that you did!

 

GF