Archive: July 2007

Tonight, JG and I are meeting his mom’s side of the family for a few days in Ocean City, New Jersey. Almost everyone is already there, but with work and class, our arrival was a bit delayed. I think JG will still get in some good beach time before we leave on Saturday.

This vacation is an annual family tradition, but I’m still getting used to the whole idea. As a native of rocky shorelines and look-don’t-touch-oceans, I don’t exactly relish the feeling of sand in my feet or the scent of salt in my nose. I’m resigned to the fact that, while beaches will never be a part of my perfect vacation, JG certainly is. If he wants to go to the beach, well, then we’ll do it together.

That’s not to say that Ocean City doesn’t have its charms. I’m looking forward to eating dinner at the clam bar, buying cotton candy on the boardwalk, and getting saltwater taffy stuck in my teeth. Non-food-related glories include zooming through a stack of books, lounging on my beach chair, holding my own with a gang of game-playing (and smack-talking) cousins, and taking pictures with a much-improved camera as compared to last year’s model. Despite the lack of a reliable Internet connection, being out of the office and at my leisure are very appealing, indeed.

We’re off! Happy 4^th of July!

The wedding JG and I attended last Friday was a good 4-hour drive from our house, so we decided to spend Thursday night at his grandmother’s house so that we’d only have to drive for an hour to get to the wedding. She loves seeing the grandkids and we only get to visit with her about twice a year, so it seemed like a good plan for everyone.

Mimi, as JG and his siblings call their mom’s mom, is the sweetest, quintessential American grandma I have ever had the opportunity to meet. She calls everyone “honey,” happily produces plates of homemade chocolate chip cookies and caramel brownies, and plays a mean golf game, that is, when she is not laid up from shoulder surgery. She is the driving force behind the annual family trip to Ocean City, New Jersey, and she loves to take the girls out shopping after Thanksgiving. Until recently, Mimi worked as the drive-up teller at her local bank branch and she can’t walk into any public place – supermarket, country club, restaurant – without seeing someone who came through her window for a transaction or was related to someone who did. Her house sits on the fringes of what I’m told is a very good golf course and she would often bring out cookies to golfers who were on the tenth hole. Mimi is well-loved by her town and marrying into her umbrella of good will has been really wonderful.

It’s interesting for me to experience a grandparent as I experience Mimi. My own family time was unfortunately laced with obligation. It was our duty to visit, to converse, to have a good time, or else. I was told to be a blessing, not a curse, which would have been just fine if everyone else had followed the same reprimand. I learned to simply show up at family events and stock up my stories for the questions I expected people to ask. If I didn’t have to talk, my mind was elsewhere, resting for the next period of strain, when I would try my best not to embarrass myself, or worse, my parents. Now, as an adult, I marvel at how Mimi makes me feel like an original grandchild. Even more astounding, I am able to fit right into that slot and shuck off the obligation to impress. Mimi just wants me to pull a stool up, tell her what I’ve been doing lately, and talk a little bit louder, into her good ear.

The night we stayed at Mimi’s, I had a terrible time sleeping. I woke up just before 2am after tossing and turning from some strangeness in my stomach, so I got up to read in the next room because JG had the good fortune to be sound asleep. When 6am rolled around and the last page of the book was turned, my stomach was still unsettled. I padded back to JG and whispered that I was going to the kitchen and he murmured back, “Mimi will make you anything you want, so just ask.”

I slid into flip-flops and jeans and made my way up to the kitchen, where Mimi was puttering around with dry ingredients. “Good morning, Mimi,” I said, loudly enough so that it would reach her hearing aid, and she turned, smiling.

“Well, hello, honey! What are you doing up?” I’ve only come for two Thanksgivings and she already knows that I am not among the family’s early risers.

“I wasn’t feeling very well, so I decided to come upstairs.”

Mimi’s already creased face furrowed with concern. “Oh, dear. How about some tea?”

“Tea would be perfect.”

I sat at the island with a steaming mug in my hands and the two of us chatted about the family, upcoming vacations, and whether or not she could go back to the time when she didn’t have those handy digital cable radio stations. I sipped at my tea as Mimi mixed up dough for a new batch of chocolate chip cookies, spraying flour around the counter. My stomach gradually calmed down and I sat in quiet awe at my settled state of mind. I was still physically tired, sure, but talking with Mimi simply made me feel at home. If there was anything I needed after such a restless night, comfort was it. And that’s what Mimi gives people.

1. Schedule an office excursion to Longwood Gardens the same Thursday that you have to leave for a wedding. Be sure to offer your house for lunch afterward because you live so close by.
2. Take an inordinate number of pictures and focus on the lily pads because you’ve never seen them outside of books about frogs.
3. Arrange that the day you spend outside looking at plantlife is outrageously hot and humid and that there is construction en route to your house, ensuring that the caravan of cars inevitably falls apart.
4. Once your co-workers leave, start packing because you have to leave in an hour. Stress about what you’re forgetting because you didn’t write out a list, stupidly. Realize that sharing a duffel bag with your husband is an easier way to carry things but not an easier way to organize them.
5. Four hours later, arrive at your husband’s grandmother’s house and make small talk.
6. That night, have trouble sleeping. Finish your book because you have nothing else to do. Garner, at most, 2.5 hours of sleep for the night. Feel sick at the thought because you still have at least 8 hours of wedding for which to be alert.
7. On Friday, get ready for the wedding in record time and promptly get stuck in traffic on the way there. Watch the time go by. Get very hot.
8. Deliberate as to whether or not it’s worth it to try and make the wedding ceremony or to go straight to the reception. Try not to focus on the fact that missing the ceremony would be really disappointing.
9. Have the decision made for you by the 8 miles of construction. Head to the reception venue, check in, and collapse on the bed, despite dressy wedding attire.
10. Arrive right on time for cocktail hour because, boy, you could use a drink. And one of those scallops wrapped in bacon.
11. At the reception, discover that you’re seated at the table farthest from the action. Dub it the “trouble table” and proceed to be rowdy with your friends because no one can see anything, anyway.
12. Go around the reception and take lots of pictures to send to the couple right away because the professional ones will take forever.
13. After the meal, dance the night away with your husband, thanks to some liquid persuasion on his part. Request “More Today than Yesterday” and get “Build Me Up, Buttercup,” instead. As a result, miss out on cake-cutting and eating.
14. Shout so much over the loud music that your throat becomes painfully hoarse. Try to remedy the problem that people can’t hear what you’re saying by shouting some more.
15. Join the throng to wave off the bride and groom. Feel grateful that the night flew by, you had a great time, and you didn’t get tired.
16. Hobble up to your hotel room and kick off your heels at the first chance.
17. On Saturday morning, walk around the Penn State campus and enjoy the lack of humidity.
18. Stop by the Creamery and repress the fact that their ice cream has so much fat that the FDA has not approved it to be sold outside of campus. Also, try not to think about the ice cream that is already in the freezer.
19. Pick up three quarts of ice cream: vanilla, cookies and cream, and your favorite – Peachy Paterno. Have the staff pack it up in dry ice for the ride home.
20. Encounter more traffic that stretches what should have been a 3-hour drive into 4.5 hours.
21. Order Chinese when you get home and save room for the ice cream.
22. Sleep in on Sunday morning. Stay in your pajamas for as long as possible.
23. Eat leftover Chinese for lunch.
24. Go through the pictures from the last few days and remind yourself that the fatigue and barely catching your breath was a fine price to pay for such a fun time.