This is the start of spring break? 45 degrees outside, huge puddles in the driveway, sudden torrential downpours, and the first fire we've made in the wood stove in weeks? Ugh.
I am not surprised, at all, but have not been distracted enough to not have the gloom and doom bring me down. The April mopes have begun.
I don't think I have ever been anywhere cool on spring break. Like, ever. Those of you that do and have? Uh, good for you? Please excuse my sarcasm, I'm a bit jealous, I suppose. One of these years I will join the throngs of you flying, driving, and running toward the sun to shed the winter skin. This is about the time of year when I've had enough of the weather, and look at the calendar and flip through the pages to see where the real heat begins, where I can wear a t shirt without reaching for my hoodie. And I flip and flip, and flip, and come to....July? That seems so far...
For G, spring break means "Whoopeeeee!!!" And, that is all. There is no need for heat, sunshine, or tropical adventures. The fact that she gets to sleep in, have sleepovers, go on little mini city adventures is plenty enough for her. Happiness abounds in the spring break of an eight year old with little to no expectations. I think I will board that train and forget the lack of sunshine blues. Let's blow that big train whistle, shall we?
We start with this past Friday. There is a half day at school, with an early dismissal planned. I have made plans to walk across the ferry with G, and go to my sister's house for an overnight visit after school lets out. The night before, about midnight, Jeremy and I decide does she really need to go to school tomorrow? For two and a half hours?
Nope.
We feel like the coolest parents ever.
Let's all start spring break a little early, shall we? So I sneak into her room and shut off her alarm. At 8:04 the next morning she comes paddling into our room messy haired, wide eyed, and in a small panic. "We are late! I am late! My alarm, it didn't go off!!" She says. I tell her I turned it off last night and she is welcome to go back to bed. "Spring break starts right now, okay?", I say. She says nothing and goes back into her room and doesn't come out until 9:45.
My sister lives in Duvall, which, when we pronounce it, it comes out as a drawl and a question; Dew-vawl? It is fun to say. We take it a little too far sometimes. G is very excited. It will be our first sleepover there, and her first sleepover with just me. Maria picks us up at the ferry, and wants to take us to her favorite teriyaki joint, Yummy Teriyaki, for lunch. The place is clean, busy, and there are pictures, nice pictures even, of the food on the walls. We grab our table and our order number happens to be my favorite number.
As we wait, we talk. It is so nice to see my sissy, as I don't get to see her nearly as often as I'd like.
Our food comes, and it is indeed, Yummy Teriyaki.
So, living on an Island like I do, you are not exposed often to the culture of the mainland, and, as in culture, I mean fancy strip mall franchises. After tasty franchise number one, Maria took us to tasty franchise number two, which completely blew this country mouse mind. Cue the angel choir and behold all that is good.
Yogurtland.
I have never been to a frozen yogurt joint before, so I walked in and immediately started gawking. The embarrassing kind of gawking. Yogurtland was tidy, warm, user friendly, self serve, and very visually pleasing. Willy Wonka like, except y'all get to carry the golden ticket.
The choices of froyo and toppings is a bit overwhelming at first, but once you spy your guilt, it is easy to pile it on.
We eat and I am still gushing about the store between delicious bites and so very much want to own my own Yogurtland, and bring it to the Island, I decide. I am so serious about it that we visit the website and crunch numbers when we get to Maria's house. The big picture starts to form, and soon, the Yogurtland dream reluctantly flies out of my head in a small black poof cloud. The Island would be just too small of a population to support it we conclude, and my yogurt dream fizzled away.
Oh well.
I will be a connoisseur of froyo joints instead. Watch out froyo. There is a new stalker in town.
Yogurtland, I love you mucho, mucho.
When we get to Maria's, G plays and plays and plays with her cousin Bina.
Sergey makes us fajitas as we dodge raindrops and play outside Northwest style.
This picture makes my heart hurt so bad. She is so big. The time, it just goes by way too fast.
Have toddlers? All you need is dirt, water, rocks and a bowl to keep them entertained. Truly.
I get to watch my sister be all grown up as I visit. Staying at her house, I observe her being a mother, a wife, and a adult. I am so much older than her, and she is a grown up already? How? When did that happen? In the midst of all this time that has flown by at warp speed since the day I turned thirty, I suppose.
We stay up too late with Maria and talk and talk and talk. G is so tired that when we go to sleep in the guest room that night, she doesn't talk my ear off which is what I was fully expecting. A tiny arm that tickled my arm pit in the dark was all I got.
Thank you, sissy for a wonderful stay, and a great start to our spring break.
xxx's and ooo's.
I have other day adventures planned for the rest of the week that don't necessarily require the sun. It does require stalking another frozen yogurt joint, though.
Sunshine can be found in many places besides the sky. A stray ray of it boldly broke through our spring break on Friday, even though the day was cloudy.
All is not lost.
It is just begging to be found.
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