Miles Pond- Skunked ...Again!

Sensational Success!

Smelly Suckers!

The call was not good news, so I was glad that I was alone. Well, I was sort of alone. My little cousin Sweeney Lucas was asleep like an angel in the back of the van, as I sat parked outside of the Jersey Shore Premium Outlet Mall (www.premiumoutlets.com/jerseyshore/) in Tinton Falls, New Jersey. We were on our way to the Blue Claws Game, but we made enough time to do some power shopping: Pop guns, And bicycles, Roller skates, Drums, Checkerboards, Tricycles, Popcorn, And plums (Seuss)! Whoops! Wrong story... Anyway, back to the phone call. My Mom phoned me up and said, "Pamela, I have some bad news." After the initial PAMic wore off, I heard her telling me that she had gone out to our cabin to make sure everything was ready for the big visit, and the cabin had been sprayed by a skunk. She ended by saying that, barring a miracle, there was no way the cousins could stay at the cabin. They would have to stay next door at my brother and sister-in-law's, with their permission. I was devastated.

Over the next two months, a new obsession would consume me (and my saintly, Mum)... skunk odor elimination! It was amazing to me that, in my 46 years, I have heard of many dogs who were sprayed by skunks and had to be treated. As a matter of fact, if any of our dogs had been sprayed by a skunk, I feel quite confident in saying, that I would have known what to do: tomato juice or beer, lemon juice with a twist of Febreze. It's old news right, people? Right. But for a skunk to spray a house, that's rare!

Let me share a little of what I have learned. When I arrived on the scene and assessed the situation, it was worse than I thought. Apparently the little "buggas" burrowed under the boys' bedroom and let it fly. Now, that's just mean. What had they ever done? First I had to dress for the job. Because my Mum was afraid that said skunk, or heaven forbid, skunks might still be in the hole, she made me dress for the job. Gosh, I wish I could find the pictures, but they seem to have been accidentally erased from my memory card. Suffice it to say that the outfit included several layers of over-sized clothing, a towel wrapped around my head and around the front of my face, winter mittens, hiking boots and all topped off with a lovely rain poncho. The whole ensemble really had a burqa effect. If the skunk wasn't afraid the first time he sprayed, I was sure, he would be now when he got a look at me. Well, scared or laughing really, really hard.

All of this to verify that the skunk had filed his change of address. He was gone, out of there! When I peered deeply into the now tunnel that ran underneath the front of the house, there were no beady eyes looking back at me. So began my repertoire of remedies: lots of different air fresheners and deodorizers, cotton balls dipped in ammonia and propelled into the tunnel, moth balls, praying, charcoal, begging, fox urine (don't ask) and finally, Beyond Green Beyond Clean! My friend Ron told me about the all natural product and after a full fogging of the house, we had finally defeated one of mother nature's most powerful odors. I only wish I had tried it a month earlier. I think I would have saved a lot of time, money and outfits!

Why do I have this nagging feeling though that they might have the last laugh?

Father's Day- From Burlington to Boston and Back Again...

Remembering our Dads, twin brothers

Visiting a scary chapter in American History

Pascal's last ride in America on America!

Our last night in Boston

I guess Shakespeare had Juliet say that "parting is such sweet sorrow" to characterize the paradoxical emotions that battle while saying goodbye to loved ones. I am sure that after a month of preparing and journeying, Asa, Mandy and their beautiful family were ready to say goodbye. They had lives to get back to for crying outloud! At the same time, while they were here, we had so many greetings and partings. Every day on our adventure we would meet different friends or family members, and then we would depart the next day to arrive at our next destination.

Leaving camp was hard. It was a beautiful morning when we left as Asa and Pascal went fishing one last time. We drove to Burlington (http://www.ci.burlington.vt.us/) for one more family reunion, a quick trip to the ECHO Lake Aquarium and Science Center (http://www.echovermont.org/) and then a fabulously luxuriously long, Father's Day stop at Ben and Jerry's (http://www.benjerry.com/) in Waterbury. Finally we would drive south for our last three days in Boston. Excitement and adventure seemed to follow us no matter where we went. In addition to a few upset stomachs along the way, we were evacuated from the Aquarium under, how shall I say, suspicious circumstances. At first Asa, using his hyper-observant skills, witnessed a commotion by the fish tank. Perhaps a leak was to blame for sending us out in the steamy Vermont Summer heat? After witnessing Burlington's Finest and Finest Firefighters assess the situation, we were returned to the building and just in time for the Turtle Show. We took a quick trip up the elevator (which had a mysterious burnt rubber smell). The Turtle Show was fantastic even though our presenter confessed that it was her first program on Turtles. (I think that she said that she usually did programs on frogs or sharks or something.) She and Pascal were able to compare notes on our Miles Pond turtles and the turtles from across the State of Vermont and we all learned a lot. No wonder we needed Ben and Jerry's!

We arrived in Boston in the blink of an eye, and it was the most spectacular night I have ever seen. The sun was setting on the skyline as we raced to the Duck Boat Tour Kiosk just to find out that they had canceled their last tour for the night. SHUCKS! We made our way around the side streets until we found a parking space. The streets with alive with people and wagons, but at the same time it was sort of deserted. Do you know what I mean? Food and these big long trailers were everywhere. There was a warm and wonderful member of Boston's Finest- a Policeman standing in front of a sawhorse that was blocking off a side street parking area. Could they be following me?

"What's going on?" I asked the nice officer in my nonchalant "but I know something is going on here" voice. "It almost sort of kinda looks like a movie set around here.?-!" I offered.

"Yeah. That's what I hear. I think someone said it is the new Adam Sandler movie. Don't quote me on that!" Over the next three days we would explore and comb this City from the suburbs in Hooksett, New Hampshire (thank you to our incredibly gracious hosts the Martins Family) to the wharf by the Boston Aquarium to Quincy Market (http://www.faneuilhallmarketplace.com/) to the Shops on Newbury Street (loved scarfing the scone and cappuccino at the sidewalk cafe) to the witch museum (Boo!) in Salem, but we never saw Mr. Adam Sandler or any of the cast. We never got a chance to say hello or goodbye to Mr. Sandler on this Father's Day or any of our days in Boston, but doing a little research here on the computer, it looks like the film is entitled, I Hate You, Dad. Say what? How ironic that it was the incredible love I feel for my Dad and his twin brother, my Uncle Russ that brought us all together for this trip. I thought about this as I hypnotically (and tearfully) watched Mandy and the kids take their last rides on the merry-go-round by Faneuil Hall. Pascal took his last ride on a horse called America, and then we took our last ride to Logan Airport. We formed one last group hug on the sidewalk, which would lead into their terminal. This reunion trip was, I pray, a brilliant tribute to our fathers and their father, who came before, to have forged such a shining family bond where there had been only longing and distance before. As we separated from one another, I felt the tears begin to well up in my eyes. And then they were gone. Feeling immense loving gratitude and intense devastation at the same moment, I watched them disappear through the parting and closing automatic doors . "Parting is such sweet sorrow." I love you, Dad!

Detroit

'nuff said.

Creighton University- Omaha, NE

If you squint, Creighton University actually might look a little like Disney World...

Okay, Maybe Billy Blue Jay isn't happy!

Ian (and Colin?) receive Ian's Happy news way back in December!

Creighton University- The Happiest Place on Earth!

When I was growing up, I thought that Disney World was the happiest place on earth. I never went to Disney World until seven years ago, but that is what I always believed. Now that I am much older and both of the Fallon boys will be attending Creighton University, I have to disagree with my earlier belief. After my second Creighton University Orientation, I have to boldly say that Creighton University is the happiest place on earth. I have never seen so many happy people... in one place... at one time... ever! I am consistently impressed and amazed whenever I am at Creighton how everyone is so joyful. Maybe there's something in the water, but, quite frankly, I feel like it is something more. First everyone is so sincere. Secondly, everyone loves Creighton. Thirdly, Creighton people want you to love Creighton as much as they do. It must be the Jesuits!

I love learning new vocabulary, and I learned a lot of vocabulary at this year's orientation. It feels like these words and the deep theological concepts they represent could be life altering. Don't quote me on this, but when I took my brain based learning class, I believe the research showed that until we hear/see or experience something seven times, we don't really learn it. So I think that I have probably experienced these words and phrases six times before, but now, they are starting to get my attention. The first word which captivated me was magis. The Creighton University website states, "Magis, a Latin term meaning 'the more,' is the charism of the Society of Jesus that embodies St. Ignatius’ question in his Spiritual Exercises: 'What more can I do for Christ'?" It is also the name of a two year program for educators. Furthermore, they go on to describe this quality as "In this sense, Magis as 'more' is not a quantity, but a quality of soul which desires God's goodness to be seen, expressing God's greatness through our littleness." Immediately, as I began to hear this word over and over again during the past two days, I began to view my daily "to do" lists in a whole different light. Even my prayer regimen! Many of the Creighton students and staff members who presented discussed how they were discerning their vocation, their ministry and their daily activities each day through the lens of this concept. What a paradigm shift for me! I have always wanted my life to be for the glory of God (some days are brighter than others), but this idea of reflecting on this daily, is key. Of course I don't have seven hours a day that I can go into a cave, but I believe in the power of reflection. I must be deliberate and consistent in these efforts. I wish I had learned this when I was 17!

Creighton's website goes on to define another vocabulary phrase for me "cura personalis." "Cura Personalis is a spirit of personally caring for others, who are themselves loved creations of God, and encouraging them to an awareness of God's love." Again, I try and live this way, but I never knew it had a name before! Can you know something before you can name it? I have much more to learn about Ignatius in the days, weeks and months ahead. Another cool thing about being a Creighton parent is they offer Bible studies and other learning opportunities for the families of the Creighton students. I think that this is cool! So many of the projects I do at school, I try to make them collaborations so that my students can work with their families. hmmmmm food for thought and thoughts nourish my soul!

TAKE, LORD, AND RECEIVE ALL MY
LIBERTY, MY MEMORY, MY
UNDERSTANDING AND MY ENTIRE
WILL. ALL THAT I HAVE AND POSSESS,
YOU HAVE GIVEN ME TO YOU, O LORD,
I RETURN IT. ALL IS YOURS, DISPOSE OF IT
WHOLLY ACCORDING TO YOUR WILL. GIVE ME
YOUR LOVE AND YOUR GRACE, FOR THIS IS
SUFFICIENT FOR ME.

ST. IGNATIUS

I want to drink of this water!

Vermont- "Who Says You Can't Go Home?"

The Cabin

The Old Homestead!

Family = Home

Home for the last generation

Ducks in the Pond at Home

At Home for Randolph's Q125

Usually as I am driving back and forth across this great nation during the busy, busy summertime, I hear Bon Jovi and Jennifer Nettles singing, "Who says you can't go home?" Exactly! I crank the song whenever I hear it because, as many of you who have read my earlier blogs know, home is a concept that fascinates it. My former student Maisie used to challenge me on this whole idea. "Mrs. Fallon, you can't say that you are 'going home' when you go to Vermont because you live here now. Nebraska is your home now!" And we would debate back and forth.

"Yah, I know that I live in Nebraska, but my house is in Vermont!" I mean isn't home where your house is? Or maybe it was home is where the heart is... I don't even know anymore, but I am still fascinated by the concept. What is "home"? Honestly, I feel "at home" in many different places for various reasons, but I spend a lot of time on this idea especially, this summer with the cousins here from Australia. Maybe I should say that home is where my history is, but I have tried to make a lot of history no matter where we have lived by loving and serving along the way.

We finished our trip to New York and New Jersey, and now it WAS time to head home. I cannot fully explain the feeling of calm I had as I drove closer and closer to Vermont. I always get this way! Part of it has to do with the bucolic nature of Vermont and the fact that I am with many of my beloved family and east coast friends when I am there. I know where I am going and usually, I know shortcuts to get there (no comments from the peanut gallery please). But this year, I was excited for Asa's homecoming. St. Johnsbury would be foreign to him in many ways obviously, but I was excited to show him where our Dads were raised: the house on Pearl Street, St. Johnsbury Academy (http://www.stjacademy.org/page.cfm), the Athenaeum (www.stjathenaeum.org/ ), The Fairbanks Museum (http://www.fairbanksmuseum.org/), the Dog Chapel (www.dogmt.com/) and the cemeteries, of course. There were also nearby attractions that are newly adopted family traditions: Polly's Pancake Parlor (www.pollyspancakeparlor.com), The Church Street Marketplace (http://www.churchstmarketplace.com/), The ECHO museum (www.echovermont.org/), Ben and Jerry's (www.benjerry.com/) and Chutters (http://www.chutters.com/candy/), the longest candy counter in the world were must sees too! It was a good thing that we had five days in Vermont for the cousins to take it all in! "Who says you can't go home?"

Princeton, New Jersey- Food, the Sequel or Education. the Nourisher!

Cotsen Children's Library

Exploring in Princeton: Cousins and Brothers!

Wow Architecture!

Princeton, New Jersey- Food, the Sequel or Education. the Nourisher!

Perhaps I was coming out of a high fructose corn syrup haze, but as I began to wake up from my perch in Princeton, New Jersey, I smelled this incredible aroma of freshly ground coffee, rich baking goodness, fresh fruit and maple syrup. There maybe have been a little chocolate hanging in the air from the late night brownies... Our gracious and gifted hosts, Asa's cousin George and his wife Naomi gave us a delicious breakfast to fuel our day in Princeton. After spending a couple of really delicious hours around their breakfast nook, it was time to explore this town, which loomed like an icon in my mind.

We set out walking around the town and taking in all of the sights and especially the distinctive architecture. Wow... With every glance, I saw beautiful homes, shops and building of all kinds. Such a glance usually began with Mandy picking up the camera and pointing it in a certain direction at a specific angle, and then it hit me, "Wow. That is really beautiful!" It was like I was seeing Princeton through Mandy's lens and George's words; it was spectacular. Then we arrived onto the Princeton campus. Immediately, I had this feeling of the familiar. Of course, I always feel at home around schools of any kind. I love schools, and I always feel this synergistic vibe. But this feeling was different. I blurted out to George, "I feel like I am standing on Duke University's campus!" There was this implosion as I related a previous experience, visiting Duke University (Summer 2009) and being here at Princeton (June 2011). I love that! George chuckled and proceeded to explain the Princeton- Duke connection, and I was hooked. I love history; I love intrigue. I love universities that remind me of Harry Potter. You can read more about this controversial connection by clicking on http://library.duke.edu/uarchives/history/histnotes/myths.html.

I loved Princeton. Presidents, Vice-Presidents, Governors, Chiefs of Staff, CIA directors, military leaders, astronauts, authors and trail blazers of every kind walked on these same paths as I was walking. Even fictional fireballs like Fred Flintstone (Princestone University) and Dougie Howsie are purported to have attended (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_Princeton_University_people). They studied here, learned and grew on this very campus. For me, learning nourishes. It is my food that fuels my excitement, my learning, my life. The more I learn, the more I crave to learn. Learning has a life giving dynamic for me and here we were surrounded by libraries, technology and art galleries. When I walked into the

at Princeton, so many of my thoughts about art, life and reading came together! Seriously, I could live here (http://www.princeton.edu/cotsen/gallery-programs/our-gallery/)... forever, maybe just with some fries on the side!

New Jersey; New Hampshire; Boston, Massachusetts

A piece of cake? A very large piece of cake... supersize me!

Double Yum

Yum!

Choices, Choices, Choices

Baseball, Apple Pie and Education- Food Edition!

After our beach day, we spent the next couple of days enjoying sumptuous meals, close baseball games and, when we arrived in Princeton, a look at the University. Although I do not want to "b"word you with details about all of the powerhouse baseball we witnessed and the amazing food we consumed over the next couple of days, I do want to say that sharing a meal is a wonderful way to get to know someone. We shared a lot of meals with our visiting family from Australia, but our family meals have always been legendary, mythical. We can sit around a table for hours eating, talking and reminiscing. It has been that way as long as I can remember! Some of our most poignant family memories have taken place around that dining room table meal. Engagements, pregnancies (well, the announcements thereof), reunions, vocations, holidays and celebrations of every kind have been initiated by a family meal. I was actually taken aback a couple of months ago when one of my sons had a friend over to the parsonage around meal time. When I invited her to stay for supper, my son assured me that they would be snacking downstairs because she wasn't ready for the Fallon Family Table... Say what? How do you prepare a friend to have a meal with us? What is it like extended deep sea diving? A moon landing...Ouch!

But getting back to our meals all around the east coast this summer- we ate and we ate and we ate some more. My poor cousins' children... At least our sons, Colin and Ian knew what they were in for when we would gather around the table at mealtime. Sometimes they would just have their blanket and pillows ready... just in case. Luckily, Pascal and Sweeney were so great! Pascal would speak right up about whatever the grow-ups were discussing, and little Sweeney would comply with any request and loved to blow bubbles with his drink. Even when we were at the baseball game, we ate until we couldn't eat any more and one topic of conversation would lead to the next. I worried about being a corrupting influence on the cousins' diets. When they arrived, they were small-portioned, varied-colored fruit and veggie eaters. (Notice picture on top from Day two where Mandy and Sweeney are having asparagus with their fries!) After only a day with us, we had transformed their diets to saturated fat, refined white sugar free-for-alls! I can't imagine the withdrawals when they returned to their regular healthy diets. (Shudder)

Our first day in Boston started out with my health-conscious friend Kathy and I racing through the grocery store aisles trying to assemble breakfast before the cousins awoke. We came around the corner almost crashing into each other as I tried to shamefully hide my selections. (Now I could digress here to say that Kathy and I were roommates in college, and she did not always eat as well as she did today, but I won't.) I saw her eyebrows raise heavenward, and she slowly enunciated, "What do you think you are buying?"

When I boldly pulled them from the fold of my arms, I placed the colorful box out in front of me and said, "Tri-colored, sugar oh's." (The name has been changed to protect the ... innocent.)

Kathy slowly nodded her head back and forth like a Martha Stewart bobbing head doll and slowly stated, "You are not bringing that high fructose corn syrup into my house, Missy! No siree Bob."Then began the complex negotiations that began with my "sugar oh's" and her cereal that looked like baled straw; we compromised with Life cereal. I had donuts; she had bagels. And so it continued until I screamed, "But I just want them to be happy!" And so it was that, without even getting the food to the table, my girlfriend Kathy and I were brought even closer. See what I mean? Meals bring people together:)

Stay tuned in the next installment of my blog entitled... Princeton, a great university or just another place to strap on the ol' feed bag?

Sandy Hook Beach - New Jersey

Fun in the Sun?


When we awoke, it was like the monsoon from the night before had been a figment of our imaginations. It was a beautiful morning for Dunkin' Donuts on the deck as we prepared for our day at the beach. Our first stop was the 9/11 memorial. It may have been in my blog from a couple of years back, but it is always a very humbling reminder to me of all that I have to be thankful for. Here is what the website (http://www.monmouthcountyparks.com/page.aspx?ID=2495) says, "

Mount Mitchill Scenic Overlook
460 Ocean Boulevard, Atlantic Highlands, NJ 07716

Monmouth County's 9/11 Memorial has three symbolic components: a timeline walkway to recollect the day’s events; a stone base carved with the names, ages and hometowns of the county residents who lost their lives; and an eagle sculpture with a beam from one of the fallen towers."

Having served an assistant scoutmaster these last couple of years, the symbol of the eagle is very powerful to me. When our boy scouts complete all of the work that is required for them to become Eagle Scouts, I feel our Scouts have become men. Also, not only does it connote the American spirit, or what we hope the American spirit is all about, it makes me think of all of the noble character traits that we try to infuse into our Scouts, and students for that matter: respect, responsibility, citizenship, loyalty, trustworthiness, caring and compassion. And these are beliefs that are difficult to explain to someone else because they are more like emotions, intangible... unlike, yet kind of like, skin care.

I hate to generalize because I know that there are always exceptions to the rule, but often times I wonder if we in America take care of our skins like they do in other parts of the world. Growing up in a family with eczema and psoriasis, we were encouraged to get our skin out in the healing sun. I remember when we were bold teens, we used to use tanning oils or baby oil to enhance our deep, dark tans. Oh my! I was reminded of this when I saw these pictures. In one of the pictures above is of my cousin Asa taking a picture for a couple on the beach. I think that this shows the huge discrepancy between how those of us from the US protect ourselves from the sun (little) and how those in Australia do (much). I was amazed that my little cousins wore rash guards as they swam and frolicked on the beach because they are required to in Australia. According to the Skin Cancer Foundation, one in five Americans will contract skin cancer in the course of a lifetime. Wow! Our amazing school nurse even did a program with our students this year to help them understand the damage the sun can do to their skin over time. With all of this information readily available, I, for one will start taking better care of my skin for a long time to come and, in the same spirit, will have fewer donuts to begin my day!

Mission Possible- IL, NYC and the Garden State

Mission Possible

This summer was already shaping up to be different than the rest, and now it was about to get really interesting. With Colin in Omaha and Ian in Chicago, I would be journeying to the east coast on my own. Well, almost on my own. When I arrived in New York, I would be picking up my cousin Asa and his family. After all of these years of Colin and Ian's (and Matt's) wonderful co-pilot skills, I was ready. Or so I thought. “This would be great,” I assured myself. I had three books on tape to keep me company: Water for Elephants, Three Cups of Tea and a Mary Higgins Clarke Mystery. "What more could I need?" Perhaps, "Dunkin' Donuts," you say. Well, as always, my first stop along my journey was Kildeer, IL. Niece Kendall, nephew Tyler, sister-in-law Tracey and brother-in-law Brad helped me to fuel up on my Dunkin' Donuts, and with a chance to see Tyler hit 'em out of the ball park during his Little League game, along with a beautiful night of sleep, I set out for New Jersey the next morning- Wednesday, June 8.

My Mission (fade in Mission Impossible theme song) that I had already chosen to accept was to pick up my Australia cousins in Harlem at the amazingly wonderful, Aloft Hotel (http://www.starwoodhotels.com/alofthotels/property/overview/index.html?propertyID=3353). But how?

The beauty of the proposed plan for Thursday, June 9th was that I would arrive in New Jersey, set up accommodations for the cousins, jump on the SeaStreak Ferry (www.seastreak.com) to Manhattan, hire a cab to Harlem, meet them at their hotel, take a car with all of us to the Ferry and end up back in New Jersey. Piece of cake, right? Wrong. Learning experience? You betcha!

The easy part was taking the Ferry from New Jersey to Manhattan. It was a beautiful ride. I would go so far as to say that there was not a cloud in the sky... yet! When we arrived in New York, all of the those hearty Yankee fans blew off the boat and into the awaiting cabs. By the time I made my way to the last, solitary, remaining cab, I flew (albeit clumsily) to the open passenger side window of the last yellow cab, hunched down and with my best Dickensian accent straight from Oliver Twist, begged, "Please, kind sir, could you drive me to the Aloft Hotel in Harlem?"

"No, I can't go all the way up there," he replied with a thick accent of his own.

"Please, sir, I'm ... from Nebraska!" Due to powers (Go, Big Red!) even he couldn't explain later, he seemed to surrender immediately, and he resigned himself to help me out- body and soul.

"Get in," he barked, and before I had closed the door, he was off. I did not take his picture for the blog because I knew he was mad that he had taken pity on me. If I had taken a picture, he might have looked like this (see above). This was no "Cash Cab" party van that I found myself in, but 30 minutes later, he pulled up in front of the Aloft Hotel. I paid the bill, and after thanking him profusely and asking him if he wanted to be friends on Facebook, I walked inside dejected.

I didn't see any of the cousins, but it was only 5:30 PM, and I told them that there was little chance of me being there much before 5:45 PM. I paced around the lobby after verifying that the car would be ready at 6:00 PM to take us all back to the Ferry. 5:45 PM and 5:50 PM came and went. " They are not coming," I lamented. "I think that I had a dream like this once. Okay... maybe twice, but I don't think either time I was stood up in Harlem." I'm just saying.

And then, just when I was almost without hope, just when the 4 in 5:54 flipped over in the clock to become 5:55 PM, I saw them. In a mad rush of bodies and strollers and backpacks and babies and shopping bags, I saw them. They were rushing in the front door and the revolving door at the same time, and, in my eagerness to get to them, I may have actually passed them a couple of times in the next section of the revolving door before I could make it stop at them. But it was them. After 45 and 3/4 years of waiting... no... longing... no.... yearning to meet my cousin Asa, he and his beautiful family were standing in front of me. Suddenly all the anxiety I felt just disappeared. In a torrent of excitement and an almost Red-Bull like induced adrenalin rush, we grabbed their luggage, shared stories about our days and tumbled into the awaiting car. And then as author Jean Shepard so eloquently has Ralphie Parker say in The Christmas Story , "...life is like that. Sometimes, at the height of our revelries, when our joy is at its zenith, when all is most right with the world, the most unthinkable disasters descend upon us." In our exuberance, we had hardly noticed the dark cloud that had descended upon Harlem that afternoon until it broke all over us. No sooner were we in the car, when buckets of rain began to pummel the us from every direction.

Despite the weather conditions, our driver, can I call him ...Ted (?) focused his attention on what was now, rush hour traffic. Not only was it bumper to bumper rush-hour, but apparently the Black-Eyed Peas had decided to give a free concert in Central Park to benefit the Robin Hood Foundation (http://www.myfoxny.com/dpp/news/Black-Eyed-Peas-Free-Concert-Central-Park-20110609-APX) and then to cancel it, to the dismay of thousands of fans who had been waiting for hours, just as we were trying to make our way to the Ferry. Add in a little monsoon-like rain, wind and yes, hail I thought I had left behind in Nebraska and the excitement was just beginning. Driving through New York City is always an adventure, but on this fateful night, it was surreal. It was like the weather was mimicking my emotions, but here we were huddled within the shelter of the car headed for ...a boat. A boat? Seriously? (Cue in music from Gilligan's Island..."The weather started getting rough, The tiny ship was tossed. If not for the courage of the fearless crew, the Minnow would be lost. The Minnow would be lost"). As Ted zigzagged in and out of lines of traffic and beeping horns, the children clung to each other in fear. I think I may have even heard Pascal whisper, "Why is cousin Pam trying to kill us, Mommy? Do we have to go with her?" I could have misheard that last part. He might have said, "Do we have to row with her?" Everyone who knows me knows that I have a hard time hearing.... anywho!

We arrived at the ferry port, but there was no ferry. I looked pleadingly at Ted, but he wouldn't return my gaze. Clairvoyantly, we knew what each other was thinking, and neither one of us was going to be happy. He was going to drop us off even though the ferry wasn't there and, based on the weather, it might never be coming. They say that in a crisis situation, people can bond in powerful way. I have heard people say something like that anyway. So we pulled up; for a minute, I thought, "Hey, maybe he'll just wait here with us for a couple of minutes until the Ferry arrives." Then the minute was up; Ted bounded out of the car and began pulling the Letourneau family's luggage from the back of the car and setting them under the overhang from the highway which ran above our heads. The only problem was... you know how on those highways that look like they are suspended in air and how they have those drains that prevent the water from getting backed up. Ya, well that there drain was right above our heads. So when Ted squealed away, we thought it was still a downpour, but once we moved away from the drain above our heads, it actually stopped raining for a little while.

It stopped long enough for the ferry to come and for us all to get on board. We plopped down in the closest booth seats and took a long hard look at each other before breaking out into laughter. Whew! We were breathlessly drenched, yet invigorated as we spent the next hour in the safety and comfort of the SeaStreak Ferry's bosom getting to know each other. It seemed like we had endured the rages of hell, forged a steely bond that would only get stronger over the next twelve days we would be spending together, when (and this last part could have been a dream after watching Field of Dreams) we arrived on that distant shore. I seem to remember little Sweeney turning to look at me with his serious face and saying, "Cousin Pam, is this Heaven?" to which I responded, "No, Sweeney, it's New Jersey."

And so it began...