five things, july 6 edition
1. I think, all things being equal, it's good to be home. We've spent the last few days settling in. Dusting shelves, paying bills, rearranging camp schedules, and oh. The laundry. Doesn't it feel good though? To reclaim your space? I hit my jet-lag wall around 3:30 p.m. on Thursday afternoon, and just gave up. Callum stayed in jammies most of the day and we watched Olympic trials on TV. Speaking of the Olympics, we can't wait. (Oh, and Project Runway too. Anyone else watching?)
2. I think I love the way going on vacation makes you reframe your life and think about things differently. Or think that you'll think about things differently when you decide to wake up.
3. I think Neel's Beer Butt Chicken was pretty yummy. We need to tweak it a bit, and Neel wants to try a new rub (one where he doesn't accidentally dump a bunch of extra red chili flakes into the rub), but it kind of blows my mind that we cooked a whole chicken on the grill. Sitting up. On a can.
4. I think I'm ready for some changes. I'm restless. Today I finish settling in, but Monday, I get cracking. Not sure what's going to change yet, but for sure, something will.
5. I think that the internet is pretty freaking amazing. In the last week, I met two women previously only known through these spaces and felt like I've really known them for ages (more on that next week). Almost more special than that was another thing that happened. On Sunday night, a camp counselor of mine from long, long ago died unexpectedly. I grew up going to a wonderful sleep-away camp in the Smoky Mountains called Camp Montvale. I won't bore you with those stories here, but if you ever went to sleep-away camp, you know how significant those summer times can be. Rudy, the counselor who died, was a significant part of many, many summers for me. When we sat around the fire on the first night of camp each year, listening to his traditional story of Bug Juice, we never dreamed of a world where we'd all be able to keep in touch through Facebook. I never dreamed that I'd find those lost friends, many barely remembered, so many years later. Rudy was special to many, and he had that amazing gift of making you feel as if you were special to him. I can thank the internet that I even knew of this man as an adult. That I knew of his marriage and his family. And as hard as it was to learn, when the news of his passing hit my Inbox, I was grateful just to know. All through the next days, tribute after tribute has poured in for this man. Nearly every ping of my email brought another memory or a photo or an opprotunity for friends of Rudy's to gather. If all those emails and memories trailing in comforted me, then how must it have helped his family to see? Thank you, internet. And Rudy, rest in peace.