VA Beach getaway

Friday morning I got a text from my aunt inviting us down to Virginia Beach for the weekend. I forwarded the message along to Mike, expecting that he was probably too busy this weekend preparing for his classes. Instead he shot back a, "Sounds fun. Let's do it!" I love this boy of mine . . .

As soon as he finished his test and pedaled home, we loaded up and jumped in the car. It was such a fun okay-fine-the-summer-really-is-over trip. An especially big-time thank you to Mike and Kimber!

Saturday was picture-perfect. Ada loved the sand, asking for us to bury her again and again. We'd mound the sand high, pat it down flat, and then she'd wiggle her toes. She was genuinely surprised each time they popped through the sand and would laugh until asking, "Agee?" And we'd start all over again.

As soon as she saw the water, she ran as fast as we've ever seen her head-long into the waves. The water was chest high on her and she was still trying to move her little body deeper into the ocean. It's so indicative of her little personality.

Travellog: Nebraska to Illinois

 8/24/12
We both love looking out over the corn fields. Neither of us are tired of them yet. Though it is strange: just where are the mountains?

Windmills towered over dry crops; corn fields so stunted not even my Ada could get lost in them. But even with so many in yellow and green ombres I feel a sense of American pride at our resilience and faith; there's a sense in the air here that we're going to keep on keeping on. 

Middle-America is surprising in how unsurprising it is. It is exactly as I've always pictured it—red barns and shiny silos, green and yellow fields and tractors, long rows of sprinklers attached to those giant wheels, trucks, blue skies, hay. It seems wholesome. It seems like exactly what it is: the core of my country.

I had never traveled through the middle section of America. I didn't know how beautiful Iowa was. Or how water towers stand over every town. I told Mike that coming up on a city in the Midwest is so different from coming up on a city out West. Where I'm from, you know you're nearing a city when you start to climb a hill. Once you summit you usually see a town or two nestled in the valley between the mountain you just came over and the one in the distance that you have to drive up next.

Out there they just seemed to appear out of now where. The only indicator was the water tower, bearing the town's name.

Main Street. Keokuk, IO, USA

Keokuk Water Plant on the Mississippi River

We stayed the night in Keokuk, Iowa. Before calling it a night, we drove down Main Street, across the Mississippi and up the banks a few miles and visited Nauvoo. It was off season. The pageants had all ended just over a week before.

We had the whole place to ourselves.

Missionaries and tour guides still stood eager to lead tours through the various historic buildings, but the streets were empty. We decided to pull the bikes off the back of the car and ride through the streets. It was the best decision we made. Ada sat up front, proudly patting her shiny helmet and feeling the wind race past her. It felt so good to be moving and actually feeling the elements brush past, dust and all. I thought numerous times that day just how strange travel is. You don't feel any of the places you rush past. And yet, for those living there, they feel it so much sometimes it's painful.

Two days in the car must have made her feel like she had some serious reconnecting to do with nature because I'm fairly certain that her favorite part of the day came when she was sifting through wood-chips at the abandoned "Pioneer Past Times" post and rubbing her dusty hands on her sweaty face. Mike and I sat there and watched her, cementing the outing in our brains so when things are wild we can remember that breeze, that simplicity, that little baby who just needs a pile of dirt and two loving parents.

Naming colors on the rug.

"The sun went down beyond the river. . ." though the sky wasn't wild, nor red. But the river was brimming with lily pads and water birds and I wished we had more time (and a less worn-out little one) so we could get up to the water's edge for a few minutes.

Rafty

We had a wild time rafting down the Snake River on Saturday. The adventure began before the river. Putting on my wetsuit took a team of dedicated people (aka: Mike) working tirelessly (which equals 10 minutes). It's such a strange feeling to extend your arm and not have the sleeve slip up into place to stretch with you and then boing your arm back into place.

But I was so grateful for my wetsuit. I hardly felt the cold water and I am—as dubbed by Mikey—the #1 Comfort Queen. It was important to my cheeriness to be warm and dry.

A big shout-out thank you to our friendly river guide whom I told outright I didn't trust (it didn't help that we grew up together and I knew of his antics), but who soon gained my confidence and complete reliance.

Until next time, Wyoming.

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AND don't forget to enter the giveaway before Wednesday, July 18th at 12:00 AM MDT.

Everything looks better in a wetsuit

We're getting ready today to head out on a little river trip Saturday. We're leaving Ada with my mother-in-law overnight. She couldn't be in better hands, but I still feel nervous. I remember feeling the same way the first time a non-family member babysat her. Milestones I guess. Or loosening up.

We'll see if I'm actually able to enjoy myself. Not because I'll worry about Ada, but because I'm wearing a wetsuit which is possibly the most uncomfortable piece of swimwear ever invented. But the most flattering, right?

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Don't forget to enter the giveaway before Wednesday, July 18th at 12:00 AM MDT (so it's basically like Tuesday night, right? Right)!

Maxwell Family Reunion 2012

I took a break from blogging. It was really, really nice. But I already feel like there are a dozen things that have gone undocumented and my red personality is getting a little . . . anxious?

We spent a long weekend in Park City for Mike's family reunion. We rode the Alpine Slide, the Coaster—Mike and I doubled up and went fast, fast, fast!—Ada was spoiled and went on a two rides on the merry-go-round and topped the day off with an ice cream cone. We spent a bit of time in the pool. Mike golfed. I shopped. Ada napped in a haphazard fort in our studio condo. It was (as it always is) a blast to be with cousins, aunts and uncles, and share meals and memories.

I didn't expect to be so enamored with watching Ada interact with her cousins. They held her hand and called over to play with them. They wrestled on Grandma and Grandpa's bed and fed each other snacks. Some of my favorite memories are watching them together. Truth be told, they are only getting cuter the more they play together. Makes me excited for my sis' baby to arrive in December.

The three of us came to the reunion a bit under the weather—Ada sported a double ear-infection which she handled as best she could. All things considered, she was a champ. The rest and fresh mountain air did all of us good. And there's nothing so rejuvenating as spending time with the ones you love most.

 

Beginning our ascent on the coaster

Ice cream. Messy, sticky, sugary ice cream.

Pool time!

Finally feeling better

A drive up Empire's Pass

Family picture before our gourmet lunch at the Montage. Don't mind the sunburns.

Lucca and Pisa

The few days between Mike's last final and our trip back home were packed. A few day trips, showing family around Bologna, our "lasts" of doing just about everything in Bologna. Our last Saturday we spent in Tuscany, visiting the beautiful city of Lucca and then taking a quick jaunt to Pisa for a few hours.

Lucca was amazing. It is a very small medieval city with the large city way still intact. Radiating from the wall are probably a dozen ramparts, many of which have play ground equipment or benches. I was taken back by how lush and green everything was. I'd put Lucca on a top ten best city to take a toddler to for sure.

After exploring the city a bit, we rented bikes and a little bike seat for Ada, and rode around the wide, tree-lined city wall—the wall has a road that goes all the way around. A loop only takes a few minutes. The view is incredible from on top. The girls stopped and played at a playground and let Ada get her wiggles out (ha. They never seem to be "out" at all . . .) and the boys rode in their gear down to Pisa. We met them by train.

Our visitors getting ready to ride with Mikey.

On top of the city wall

Then we made it to Pisa. The boys beat us with tons of time to spare, even though our train ride was under 30 minutes. They took naps on the grass while they waited.

The day was beautiful. The weather was perfect and everyone was happy. We grabbed a mediocre pizza near by, but to have a view of the leaning tower while we ate may have made it worth the price. The rest of the afternoon we relaxed and moseyed around the impressive sights. Ada loved being able to run about and make friends with other tourist (she stole a ball, someones shoe, and a bracelet. We've got to watch that little thief!) It was so leisurely, so perfect.

 

 

On the walk back to the train station with Mikey (he gave up his bike so his brother and sister-in-law could make the beautiful Tuscan countryside ride back to Lucca together) we talked about Bologna, reminisced about all it did to strengthen us and form us into better learners, better spouses, better parents and better disciples of Jesus Christ. A friend asked me last week in what ways I changed while I was there. I think I'll save that for another post, but much of what I have to say came from the walk we took back to the train station, holding hands and talking together. I think I'll always remember that walk back. It was beautiful and frozen as a piece of serenity in my mind; serenity I needed stores of before the flurry of packing and cleaning and moving and flying and unpacking and adjusting came on.

I'm beginning to miss Italy.

A view from walking back—the Arno river and Santa Maria della Spina.