Endless hours in the car have led me to two conclusions. One: We live in such a beautiful country. Two: My definition of
family vacation is more accurate than I realized. On Monday morning we packed up the van one more time and headed back through Mississippi, Tennessee, and Missouri where we stayed at the Best Western in the Mark Twain historical area of Hannibal where we rested at the beginning of our trip. Earlier in the day we stopped in Defiance, MO, and toured Nathan Boone's amazing fortress of a home, built about 200 years ago. It was here that Daniel Boone also lived his later years, acted as judge of the area, and died in the main floor bedroom.
The kids again enjoyed swimming in the hotel pool. James acquired a rock in the state park back in Mississippi and named one side of it,
Rocket, and the other side,
Me. He enjoyed throwing it into the pool so Emily could dive for it. The boys only once nearly hit me in the head with the rock. In typical Jen fashion, I tried to break into the room we stayed in a week ago, jamming my key card in and out of the reader, pounding on the door and then pausing in alarm when I realized that the room we were currently occupying was not the room I was now standing before. I hope the room was vacant, or at least that the possible bothered guest didn't catch a glimpse of me through the peephole as I sprinted out of sight. On Tuesday we headed back to Minnesota. The van did not want to drive the speed limit and reminded me of a horse turned towards home. We are happy to be back. I have enough dirty laundry to keep my machines running steadily for two days. Overall it was a pretty good week!
Reflecting Back:
Sleeping arrangements throughout this trip were close. I learned some things about us while sharing these small spaces. James yells at Timothy many times a night in his sleep. His angry outbursts woke me up every time, which is probably the biggest reason I am now exhausted. Timothy must have lots of happy dreams because he laughs. Emily is an aggressive cover-stealing bed mate. At one point I found her sleeping sideways in the bed with Timothy standing beside the bed with his head resting on the edge--and he was asleep! Mom and I are the only ones used to sharing our beds. When we shared a bed one night at the hotel, we were both sleeping on the opposite edges. There was enough room between us to comfortably sleep a lumberjack! (No, we didn't try it--this is only theoretical.) We thought there would be room for six to sleep at the cabin in Mississippi with two double beds in the bedroom and a sofa sleeper in the living area. Upon opening up the sofa sleeper the first night, we were surprised to discover that it was probably one of the first models of sofa sleepers ever manufactured. The antique mattress had a huge dip in the middle. After laughing at it, I pressed my toe into the "nest" and nearly fell through to the floor. Obviously the sofa was only going to work if it was folded up, so Mom took the sofa, and I spent the first night sleeping on the coffee table.
On Sunday morning, my mom gifted me with the opportunity to don my running clothes and head off on
my very own adventure. When I got back, I wrote this: I worshiped this morning in God's cathedral. The section reserved for me was Tishomingo State Park in Mississippi, most specifically, The Outcroppings Trail beyond the swing bridge. I took to it as part runner, climber and wild cat. My praise was the padding of my feet on the damp, leaf-covered dirt paths. My inadequate, yet solemn prayer, offered from my soul upon reaching the summit of a prominent boulder and looking down on the budding trees with a smallish waterfall whispering nearby was, "Oh God, what a majestic world you have made. What an honor to witness your splendor in this glorious place, where I feel so small in your awesome presence." It was an intimate encounter with the Master Artist, as though I caught him dancing with pleasure in his own breath-taking creation.
When I returned our cabin key to the park office, before we began our journey homeward, the park ranger, the same one who greeted us when we arrived, was working again. While exchanging pleasantries, I noticed that his eyes show a man who is kind to the core. As I left, he casually spoke a blessing over us in his sweet southern accent, "May the weather favor you on your trip home." I let the words wash over me and resonate through my mind. This
beautiful benediction would be my souvenir from our trip to the south, words that will live on as I share them with travelers who are precious to me.
The kids again enjoyed swimming in the hotel pool. James acquired a rock in the state park back in Mississippi and named one side of it, Rocket, and the other side, Me. He enjoyed throwing it into the pool so Emily could dive for it. The boys only once nearly hit me in the head with the rock. In typical Jen fashion, I tried to break into the room we stayed in a week ago, jamming my key card in and out of the reader, pounding on the door and then pausing in alarm when I realized that the room we were currently occupying was not the room I was now standing before. I hope the room was vacant, or at least that the possible bothered guest didn't catch a glimpse of me through the peephole as I sprinted out of sight. On Tuesday we headed back to Minnesota. The van did not want to drive the speed limit and reminded me of a horse turned towards home. We are happy to be back. I have enough dirty laundry to keep my machines running steadily for two days. Overall it was a pretty good week! Reflecting Back: Sleeping arrangements throughout this trip were close. I learned some things about us while sharing these small spaces. James yells at Timothy many times a night in his sleep. His angry outbursts woke me up every time, which is probably the biggest reason I am now exhausted. Timothy must have lots of happy dreams because he laughs. Emily is an aggressive cover-stealing bed mate. At one point I found her sleeping sideways in the bed with Timothy standing beside the bed with his head resting on the edge--and he was asleep! Mom and I are the only ones used to sharing our beds. When we shared a bed one night at the hotel, we were both sleeping on the opposite edges. There was enough room between us to comfortably sleep a lumberjack! (No, we didn't try it--this is only theoretical.) We thought there would be room for six to sleep at the cabin in Mississippi with two double beds in the bedroom and a sofa sleeper in the living area. Upon opening up the sofa sleeper the first night, we were surprised to discover that it was probably one of the first models of sofa sleepers ever manufactured. The antique mattress had a huge dip in the middle. After laughing at it, I pressed my toe into the "nest" and nearly fell through to the floor. Obviously the sofa was only going to work if it was folded up, so Mom took the sofa, and I spent the first night sleeping on the coffee table. 
On Sunday morning, my mom gifted me with the opportunity to don my running clothes and head off on my very own adventure. When I got back, I wrote this: I worshiped this morning in God's cathedral. The section reserved for me was Tishomingo State Park in Mississippi, most specifically, The Outcroppings Trail beyond the swing bridge. I took to it as part runner, climber and wild cat. My praise was the padding of my feet on the damp, leaf-covered dirt paths. My inadequate, yet solemn prayer, offered from my soul upon reaching the summit of a prominent boulder and looking down on the budding trees with a smallish waterfall whispering nearby was, "Oh God, what a majestic world you have made. What an honor to witness your splendor in this glorious place, where I feel so small in your awesome presence." It was an intimate encounter with the Master Artist, as though I caught him dancing with pleasure in his own breath-taking creation. 
When I returned our cabin key to the park office, before we began our journey homeward, the park ranger, the same one who greeted us when we arrived, was working again. While exchanging pleasantries, I noticed that his eyes show a man who is kind to the core. As I left, he casually spoke a blessing over us in his sweet southern accent, "May the weather favor you on your trip home." I let the words wash over me and resonate through my mind. This beautiful benediction would be my souvenir from our trip to the south, words that will live on as I share them with travelers who are precious to me. 
I love your updates, you are so talented. Nate
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