Waiting for Viona

At least temporarily we have a 17 year old whose autonomy is close but not quite absolute.  Really the only stricture placed upon her was to call if she wasn't going to be home by 4:00.  When the clock struck four Viona was nowhere to be found, and the waiting began.  So Rosencrans and Gilderwhatever made people wait for several hours and still nothing, we didn't wait that long and instead I started to swing towards the high school and coffee shop as routes or locales our new daughter might be.  It is interesting experience to gain 13 years before our next oldest reaches that magical age of 17.  And even with the rush of anxiety caused by 45 minutes without a call, Viona has a bit of magic (this time without sarcasm) and there she was right by the bank walking home.  She got a call back for an audition to a play.

Kosovo Humor

During Nicole's pregnancy with Jo Jo we took to eating a bag of M & M's a night.  Not the small bag which is only good for little children but real adult full size action.  It gave us both a nice pregnancy glow and weight gain.  But all good things must come to an end even when the baby is 5 months old.  Viona as well became accustomed to our happy habit and joined in so she was also displeased when I said, "this is the last time we'll eat M & M's.  We have to stop."  Her reply was symptomatic of her overall wit.  "I guess this is the end of our sweet American Dream."  Indeed. 

Now Jo Jo provides our sweetness.

Viona's Room

The arrival of Viona caused a move in our timetable to remake Gilmyer since her room was beset by peeling paint and falling wall paper.  To work.  The steamer took care of the wall paper and the scraper did the rest.  A few days later and the room was almost ready for Viona.  She did help with the trim, but it was rather hot and open windows had no effect, so she asked to put on the ceiling fan.  A few more strokes of the brush to touch up and the job is done.  One last swathe above a window and done.  I turned back into the center of the room .... whack, right in the side of the head came the fan.  Those who were down stairs became very afraid at the sounds that came next .... but at least we were finished with all but the clean up.  Vacuum, roll up the tarps and son of a .... the paint can fell over thanks to my foot.  Now a half a gallon of paint to clean up on the wood floor.  Be afraid .... be very afraid.

Flug Tag

Viona wished to go to the Red Bull sponsored Flying Machine Contest known as Flug Tag and who were we to say no.  We decided to take the train down into Camden 20 or so miles from Gilmyer .... and that turned out to be regrettable -- not going to Camden but actually taking the train.  All six of us packed into increasingly crowded cars -- no one expected the event to draw over 100,000 people.  Jo Jo liked it as it was his first chance to ride mass transportation and he really seemed to like some woman on the train since every time she looked away he began to grunt that baby grunt that means disapproval -- yeah that one.  We got there, to one train stop earlier than expected but we were told the train was not going further down the line -- something we should have stowed away in our memory.  So the walk was a little far .... so there were too many people to get close ... so none of the flying machines (gliders) could fly ... what was really problematic is that there was no refreshment readily available and the lines for places where there was refreshment, well removed from the event viewing space, was nearly 200 people long, not an exaggeration.  So we saw about 20 some of the 34 "diving" machines which fell like rocks off the end of a tanker into the Delaware River, and then it was apparent that the 2 year old was ready to farfagneugen all the way home.  So off we went through Camden looking for the nearest "Riverline" train stop.  Coolest thing maybe was to see drunk dude approach some other drunk dudes and ask them if they wanted to score some crack.  The problem with crack is that it evidently makes you stupid since there was a cop about 15 feet away from the exchange who promptly went over to the crack selling dude and said something that started with "Listen Assh*le ...." but by then the realism of Camden was wearing thin so we kept walking.  We got to the train stop along with about 150 other people and waited .... and waited.  It did not appear that any train was going to be coming along even though a cop at the stop did say one would .... but finally we were encouraged by the same cop to keep walking down the line and get to the next stop .... yes the same one where we disembarked and just a short hour and a half later we were on a train back home.  Flug Tag .... and if I didn't know German I would swear that meant .....