We made it home without having to stop to buy books or bras. Looking back, we did so much on that adventure. Not great, epic things, but there were so many little moments that I’ll remember. Not all those moments are worthy of a blog, but they are worthy of mentioning.

The keeners gather early for Holes

We watched Holes as an entire family in the great theater room, a fantastic movie with pitch perfect plotting. But imagine seeing it while sitting in super comfy leather chairs, a drink in its drink slot, a big screen in front of us, surround sound all around us,The Oldest watching intently, his mind analyzing the structure, the characters, his enjoyment level, preparing his review for everyone. Fun times.

“It’s a movie. Disney. The one where the parents are dead.”

We played Heads-Up where one person put a word on their head and had to guess what it was based on the clues from their team. Playing with adults can be fun, sure, but add a few kids and it’s a whole other game. Lots of giggles. Lots of tense moments as one team battled the other. LOTS of shouting and waving and miming things like Jafar or Jurassic Park.

We played in the surf. We played pool and foosball. I put exactly 1 piece in a puzzle. We fought the ocean tides and waves while holding hands. We heard sea lions bark and gulls cry. We watched herons swoop and soar, and kites flutter in the setting sun. We laughed around the kitchen table, the dining room table, outside on the deck. We ate and drank like kings of old.

There were incredible sunsets. Crashing waves. Picturesque beaches. Quiet moments on the deck. A family picture taken for future generations. All these are below.

There were frisbies thrown and lost.
One brave soul hunted in the Cliffside salal and prickly for hours trying to find one. Glowing bocce balls were thrown in the dark. None were lost.

Nobody made me go eat in another room. No pranks were pulled on me (and there were a couple of guys there who were more than capable of pulling off a good prank, one of them even using one of the grandma’s cameras at the last get-together to take pictures of everyone’s bums.) No one was mean or unwelcoming. There were no fist fights, except a small one by the boys over something one of them did while playing pool (the details are still sketchy to this date.) No one got angry. Everyone had their space when they needed to nap or read or have some quiet time. Apparently there were introverts there, too.

For 6 days, I got to tell stories, and in turn, hear stories. I got to know nearly everyone better. I found out amazing things about their lives. I listened to the little things that made them happy. Or sad. I learned more history about the family, though I think I’ve barely scratched the surface. I wanted to learn more.
And, hey, I got to spend a week with the woman I love to death and her wonderful kidlings.

How lucky am I?

My thanks to Darrin Lee and other family members for taking these amazing photographs!