The trip to Virginia Beach was unlike all my previous trips. Along I-64 the trees on either side of the road were so heavy with ice that they bent inward towards the road. It was a little unreal, something beyond Doctor Zhivago. More frequently than was comfortable, the ends of some trees extended into whichever lane I was in, forcing me to the center of the highway. As we drove on, it grew dark, and I began to worry that I wouldn't see a tree limb in time to swerve.
In the end we made it, safe and sound. We were half an hour later than we'd planned to be, so dinner was waiting for us. I have no idea what everyone else had for dinner, since Ginger (Jean's mom) was kind enough to prepare a steak for my Christmas dinner. Everyone was there: Carol and her family, Paul and his, plus Alice and Lorraine. Fourteen people around two tables. Each of us offered thanks before Ginger had some final words, and we all ate.
Saturday morning Pasta and Neon (my two Cocker Spaniels) finally woke me at eight thirty (later than I thought they would). The dogs are little time bombs that explode if not walked early enough. I ran them downstairs and outside, then brought them back upstairs, where I managed one more hour of sleep. Jean and I came downstairs at about a quarter to ten, she in her flannel pajamas, I in my sweats. We kicked around for almost an hour, despite the news that Dell and Jim (Jean's sister Janet's in-laws) would be coming by to visit at eleven.
While Jean was on the phone to someone, Carol pulled me aside to tell me that it wasn't just Dell and Jim coming: there was a surprise baby shower happening at eleven and Jean needed to get out of her pajamas now! As casually as I could do it without tripping one of Jean's alarm sensors, I managed to get Jean upstairs. I quickly changed clothes and went downstairs. Already one of Jean's best friends, Ingrid, had arrived.
The last time I saw Ingrid was also the first time: nine years ago on my wedding day, she and I met. She and Jean talk (in German) on the phone all the time, but they only see one another once or twice a year. It was nice that Jean took a little while to get dressed, as Ingrid and I talked about Jean, dogs and babies. Finally Jean came downstairs, and Ingrid hid behind me (I picked up Pasta for additional camouflage). Jean came in and saw Ingrid right away.
Shortly after that, Paul and his family arrived. The shower was fun. I'm still not sure of everything we got. We did get one of those thermometers that you stick in the baby's ear and it immediately tells you the temperature. We also got books and clothes and other vital supplies. After the gifts, we all had lunch (they had a deli platter, I think: I had hot dogs).
Eventually the party came to an end. Jean and I went over to Paul and Carolyn's in the afternoon. Paul and I have been wanting to bring Pasta and Neon together with his Cocker Spaniel (Frisco) for years. Frisco is a temperamental little hound, but by the end I think he'd come to at least accept Pasta and Neon as visitors. Amy (Paul's daughter) and I tried to get them all to play together, but the dogs couldn't seem to find common ground (my dogs like racing to get the ball, while Frisco prefers a tug of war on a rope). I spent some time fixing the sound on Paul's computer, then Jean and I rushed back to Ginger's for dinner.
Dinner for everyone else was some kind of flat enchiladas. Terry made them, apparently quite well. I don't know because you couldn't pay me to eat that kind of thing. I had another steak, courtesy of Ginger. The children couldn't believe I wouldn't want to eat the enchiladas, even after I explained that there was nothing in them I considered food (including the ground beef).
Much of the evening was spent with the children playing with Pasta and Neon. My dogs are well mannered, and Holly, Nicky, Tracey and Andy all seemed to love playing with them. The dogs seemed to like all the attention, though Pasta was as worried as ever that I might leave him forever in this unknown environment.
I'll wrap up my visit to Virginia Beach in Sunday's entry, which I hope to have here in the next day or two.
© 1998 Kevin J.T. Creamer