A Good Summer Storm

A good summer storm
Without undue anger
Yet force enough to drive the rain
Should shake the branches
But not tear apart,
Not rip from the limbs their clothing
Scattering leaves as
If raping the trees.

OK. That got weird really fast.  I sat down to write an excuse for eating ice cream - without once bit of guilt on top - at ten o'clock in the evening. And then suddenly I'm sexualizing a storm.
That might not be a legitimate term; all the better since no one should sit down to write about ice cream and end up here.

Anyway.
Storm.
Nice, easy storm. Thunder, yes. Lightning, plentiful. Wind? Perfect: musical without moaning.
Listening, enjoying, cooling off in the mellow little storm - yes, it was just strong enough to be called a storm - I was reminded of rainy nights on family vacation.

Chased from the dark beach by the wind and rain, we sat around the table and played Gin Rummy [house rules], Hearts or Stratego (before Risk was invented, this is what brothers and sisters played when they wanted to alienate themselves from one another).

Even if one of our number didn't actively participate in the game [ahem! Dad!] they didn't isolate themselves in a quieter corner, but read a book somewhere nearby. Since it was vacation, we rarely had a bedtime, but usually had ice cream or popcorn.

When this nice not-quite-a-grown-up storm chased me from my porch seat, I realized I needed ice cream. Really. The best way to experience a good thunder shower is with a bowl of vanilla ice cream, regardless of what time of day it is. Consider it a moment of vacation.

Just don't try to write any free-verse poetry about it.

Monuments and Museums

Or, "All I Needed to Know I Learned in the First Three Days, part 1."

So here is my re-cap of the first day of our Epic Journey to the East, a Ten Piece Listing of what I learned:



Day 1 (Washington D.C.)

1. Apparently, the sight of port-a-potties triggers some people's bladders (not mine).



2. It really stinks when you leave your camera at the hotel.



3. Walking in flip-flops around the Nation's Capital is not such a bad idea -- if you're guaranteed to be traveling at the pace of a two-year-old.



4. If Mommy walks in flip-flops, the children will not understand why Daddy makes them wear tennis shoes.



5. A lot of women are wearing breezy summer dresses this season, but not with tennis shoes.



6. Sometimes fashion ideals must be sacrificed for family unity. (Please note that I do not consider flip-flops the epitome of "fashion" but I was sure my days of tennis shoes with dresses were over.)



7. Not every person in my family wants to read every exhibit in the Smithsonian museums. Actually, none of them do, except me.



8. The pace of a two-year-old dramatically increases in air conditioning (such as they have in the Smithsonian museums).



9. While heat and hunger sap the strength of all ages, cool air and food may revitalize children much faster than their adults.



10. Even if kids are whiny and hot, war memorials are still solemn, fulfilling their purpose: to remind the living of those dead in the name of freedom. Faced with the names of so many young and promising sent prematurely to eternity, and considering the empty homes and aching hearts of families left behind, I do not stop to weigh the right or wrong of wars. I simply mourn and am thankful.
    
    
    

Yeah, this is not a picture from the scenic first day's adventures. This is a picture of the kids in our hotel, watching a TELEVISION with CHANNELS! I think that was vacation enough for them, the poor media-deprived dears.

I wish I could link up to more pictures from our first day of vacation, but... well, refer to #2 of my lessons learned.

Another great moment (even better than the museums and monuments) was meeting up with my dear cousin. But I already knew it would be wonderful to see her, so I didn't actually learn a lesson there... except, that it was another missed photo. (insert tongue-sticking-out-icon-of-frustration-with-self here.)