NOTE: This post was originally meant for 28 May 2006. I noticed it said draft next to it on my posting list. Ooops. So, here is boring old stuff.
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At her school on Friday, my loving daughter told the school's owner that she (meaning the Dinks) was going to the mountains this weekend. The owner, of course, tried to confirm that with me.
I thought, "You listened to a three year old and you run this place?"
"No," I replied, "we're probably gonna do a whole lot of nuttin'."
I was hearing it everywhere. The owner was going to the shore. Another kid was going to the shore. One was going out of state, but not to the shore.
Poor unfortunate Dinks. Her daft parents made no concrete plans. And she wanted to go to the shore to see the beach.
Aces.
Yesterday was a day for Geo and I, what with the food and movie (I'm still not giving away any spoilers).
Today, all three of us ... were gypsies.
"Let's go up around where we bought the land tomorrow", says Geo last night.
"Okay", I said and called my rents with our morning plans.
We picked up the little sprog around 9:00AM from Nana and PopPop's. After a little deprogramming, we headed north to our soon-to-be home near the Poconos.
Did we have an itinerary? Nope. Do we ever? Nope. Did we have a clue? Well, Geo did. I never do. Dinks? She was happy in her own little world filled with Ratty, Lambie, crocodiles, and butterflies.
I won't bore you with all the details considering 75% of what we did was drive around in the truck. We were mapping and scoping. Checking out doctors,