Written day two of my vacation (sans internet so posting now).
Sunday, August 5
I wake up feeling cramped and a little off -- perhaps the result of a body used to a queen-sized bed cramped into a twin, perhaps the adjustment of waking up in a childhood bed that doesn't feel quite right anymore. As expected, Dad is running late (a trait I inherited and blame on him, as I blame my mother for my severe night owl tendencies). His "just 15 more minutes" becomes an hour and a half, and we head out late. Still, my sister inherited that same trait as I did, and hers is exacerbated by a large family and a return only the previous day from a trip up to Minnesota, so they are running even later than we are.
I follow Dad up to Twin Lakes, a desire on my part to have independence. I treasure this independence, honestly, because it's something I rarely have when I visit my family. Hampered by a desire to avoid driving something twice as large as my car and my inability to drive a stick-shift, I am never able to take off on my own while with my family. I am, instead, always reliant on them for transportation. So this trip I drove (a decision they all questioned, but I had the leisure time and the driving desire for it -- no pun intended), all the way up to Wisconsin. Following my father was a heady and somewhat scary experience, as my father has something beyond even a lead foot. He doesn't stand out all that much in Chicago traffic (45 mph hour speed limits seem to translate into 65 mph in Chicagoans' minds) but his normally (mostly) law-abiding daughter was definitely nervous, especially in my "please officer ticket me" sporty red coupe.
It's amazing how quickly you can adjust to a new place, and how familiar it feels when you return. I've only been to Twin Lakes once -- one week last year for our family trip -- yet I remember precisely where everything is in town, and the familiarity is reassuring. Lunch at the hot dog place I remembered. The grocery store a few doors down from that. The couple restaurants we visited last year when Holly and I couldn't bear the thought of cooking yet another night. All are precisely where I remembered them.
It's a quiet day, just settling in, family time. My cousin Nolan and his wife are here as part of the celebration of their one-year anniversary, but insist that we are not butting into their private time. My aunt Joanne stops by, and eats dinner out with us at a local restaurant. After dinner, she heads home to the new house we hope to see sometime this week. The children settle into bed. And the rest of us resume our normal evening tradition -- family games.
Tonight's offering is Trivial Pursuit, a favorite of my brother Marc's. Typically he and Holly compete on opposing teams in all family games (a sibling competition that I am always excluded from), but he decides to shake it up this year, and instead the siblings bond together on one team, with my brother-in-law Karl paired up with my father. (Karl's generally thought the strongest player, and my dad the weakest, so the pairing makes sense.) The game is hard-fought and very close, and the siblings do eventually lose, primarily due to our inability to earn a brown pie wedge our first five (!!!) times on the space. I am tickled at some of what I do know, though. A suggestion that "Sabrina the Teenage Witch" was the top-rated show for girls age 7-16 on ABC in 1998 causes my brother to exclaim in disbelief; he then bets me $10 it couldn't possibly be correct. Mental note: collect $10 from Marc.
After the game is finally finished, Dad and I leave Holly and Karl to their house and wander back across the street to ours. His routine is standard... he is going to read for awhile, he says, but he falls asleep one page in, and I wander in later to remove his glasses and book and turn out the light. The late night is my time, you see. Everyone else is settled in, and I have the cabin to myself. Without internet, and with Dad sleeping in front of the TV, I am left to journal and read until boredom, and sleepiness, overcome me.
The cure for my night owl tendencies is apparently boredom.
