NEW ORLEANS IN JULY?

Spa night at Poo's house -- mustn't smile or the facials will crack.  Can you tell we are related?

Dearest Friends,

After John headed back to Indonesia, the kids and I settled in at my sister Carolyn's (aka Poo) house for a few more weeks.  I signed Lex up for a couple of fun classes and Austin for a baseball camp, then got down to the serious business of shopping for enough clothes, shoes, swimsuits, underwear, birthday and Christmas gifts, etc., to last us through the coming year. Luckily, my Girl Scout co-leader was also visiting family in Dallas, so we were able to meet up one day and get everything we'd need for our troop that year.

In mid-July (what were we thinking?) Poo and I left the kids with a friend and joined up with her daughter, and our two other siblings, to take our parents to New Orleans to celebrate their 50th wedding anniversary. It was hot -- really, really hot -- but we still managed to have a ton of fun.

Mom, Dad and sister Kathy (aka Gus)

I was born into a family where being a mere 5'5'' makes me a giant!

Niece Steph and I headed out for a little Zydeco music, after everyone else pooped out on us.

The whole gang, including brother Bill and his wife Dani, at Court of Two Sisters (I think)

That ex-football player pretending to be a sumo wrestler was our cooking instructor/entertainer at Joe Cahn's New Orleans School of Cooking, at the Jackson Brewery on Decatur. His class, and the feast that he prepared for us, ended up being the highlight of our whole trip.

Once the kids finished up with their camps and classes, we moved up to Plano to stay with sister Gus for a little while, and on Wednesday, August 11th, at 10:00 pm, we boarded our flight for home -- probably our worst trip ever, after that honeymoon trip to Singapore. We ended up with a really long layover in Tokyo, I think it was -- too long to just hang in the airport with two exhausted kids -- so John had booked us a special day room at one of the airport hotels, so we could catch a few hours of sleep. There was supposed to be a shuttle that would take us to the hotel, but I couldn't figure out where to catch it, and was having trouble communicating my needs to any of the airport staff. We ended up having to run from one end of the airport to the other and back, lugging all our backpacks and carry-ons, several times. I remember passing the same woman each time, and that she seemed to be watching us with interest. On one of our final runs, when I saw that the kids were about to lose it completely, I called back to them "I know this is tough kids, but I promise, one day we'll look back on all this and laugh about it!" I heard someone burst into guffaws, and looked over to see that same woman, wiping tears from her eyes. "I'm sorry", she said. "I shouldn't laugh, but I just can't help it. I know exactly how you feel!"

We didn't arrive in Singapore until Friday around 1:00 pm, which is a really, really long time to be traveling with two small kids! Which is why we gave ourselves all day Saturday to rest and recuperate, before catching our flight to Medan on Sunday, then the company plane the rest of the way home. As much as I loved our time in Indonesia, I do not miss the trip there and back. Not even one iota!