A few people have inquired as to my whereabouts since I haven't been clogging up your in boxes with my e-mails and I've missed two posts in a row. I've been pleasantly inundated with family visitors. My parents, my brother, and his kids have been visiting. Ancient Pearls of wisdom regarding family company state that rules regarding company closely parallel the rules for keeping leftovers: Three days is fairly safe, but go much beyond this, however, you are asking for family toxicity. I have a great family; I immensely enjoy spending time with them, but when I have my family into town, they live with us. My proud tightwad ex-pilot father could not imagine staying in a hotel when they come to visit, so they are entrenched with us--we cook together, I have air mattresses lining lining the house like wall to wall carpet, and we carefully divide out bathroom time for the nine people staying in my house. Somehow it all works out--if the three day rule is observed. I recall a family get-together where we violated this rule by a week and a half; it's a miracle we're all still speaking after that disastrous experiment in family togetherness gone very bad.
The first day of our visit together was spent enmeshed in competitive corn hole tournaments at my sister's place. The next day we headed to my place. My sixteen year old drop dead beautiful dark auburn haired multi-talented valedictorian niece wanted to cook the family dinner, so I agreed to shop and be her sous chef slave in the kitchen. She made flank steak with pepper salsa using a mixture of spices that gave it an interesting Caribbean twist. We also prepared a giant vat of pasta salad to dive into the next day after a planned hike/run. My family is really big on food. My family of origin is a group of metabolically blessed skinny eating machines; we appreciate food and especially ethnic food. When people comment on my skinny family, I like to point out that we would be the first to die out if a famine ever hit, as we require frequent feedings. So, it seems that much of our family togethers are spent cooking, shopping, and doing dishes.
My brother is a wildlife biologist, so he and his family have always been active. My skinny brother loves to hike and play Frisbee golf, but he's never cultivated a fondness for running. Over the last four years, I've enjoyed running with my niece and nephew. He's headed off for college this fall, but he's going to be hiking a portion of the Appalachian Trail with friends before school starts off. My nephew was intrigued with my recent trail running exploits. He had the perception that this is really hardcore and qualifies me for Cyborg status. I find it interesting that people view trail running this way. I think trail runners want you to think it's hardcore, and it is from a technical/nutritional standpoint, but trail running is much more suited to the human body, than pounding miles down an asphalt road zoned out on God knows what. He wanted to give it a try, so we planned a guided hike led by naturalist brother for the non-runners and a casual 3-4 mile trail run for the running inclined on Mingo Trail. He absolutely loved this; he liked how walking up the monster hills broke up the running tedium and gave you a chance to look around at the scenery. He and Mr. Sensationally barrelled ahead, leaving Claire and I do a more casual pace. I was saving my legs for this morning's Muddy Paws race. Walker was upset he couldn't stay and do the five mile Muddy Paws race, but the long drive back to Northern Florida meant an early 4 AM departure. I think he'll be doing more trail running in his future.
The Inca Princess came over to meet my family, as he had a morbid curiosity as to the type of family to spawn someone like myself. I hope she realizes now that I come by most of my quirks quite honestly...it is not my fault that I'm this way! My daughter was glad to put a face to that nice voice that calls on the phone. My son was 25 feet up in our Maple tree upon her arrival. This is a very bad trend that my brother has encouraged. He tried to show my son a three point method for proper safe tree climbing, but 5 minutes before the arrival of the Princess, I looked up to see my son loose his footing and hang by his hands. My son has arms reminiscent of french style string beans, so my heart missed a few beats here. He managed to regain his footing but I am forbidding any further climbing of this tree. I would rather see him direct this recent flare for risk-taking to his food. My family of origin has a real Jones for Thai food, so we were going to go out for Thai food and then catch a set of my husband's gig on First and Main in Hudson. My son ruminated about this all day--he thinks he hates Thai food because he tried one molecular bite 6 years ago and has since proclaimed all Thai food toxic. I love curry; I suffer a curry deprived marriage since my husband doesn't like it. I look forward to my family visiting because they share the curry jones and we indulge. I was proud of my son because he tried some Potstickers--I mean how bland is that? Now, we'll see how the spicy curry peanut beef sits on my stomach for this morning's 10 mile Muddy Paws Run.
I had a great time with my family; they are on to the blog, too, because well...my life is a blog. I think they'll enjoy it. Gotta get ready for the race!