P+M Hit The Road

It's a curse, no official equipment, no fancy title, but absolutely true, Paul and I are the real thing, incompetent storm chasers, extreme weather magnets. Plowing through torrential rain, hail while battling brutal Chicago traffic, wipers flopping madly, the deluge unstoppable. We expect a swarm of locusts soon. Freeze frame South Haven, Lake Michigan. Life does not get any better than this. Our annual family vacation, a week like none other, all of us jumbled together under one roof, a kitchen bursting with chips, pretzels, cheese stix, pounds and pounds of kid food, enough snacks to support our country's sugar consumption easily into the next decade, more adult beverages than adult food. It's the plan, make a cocktail, stuff the kids. Everybody's happy. Christmas for me, seven days of crazy, manic granddaughters, sons, daughters-in-law, me and Grandpa. Complete chaos, energized to light up the entire eastern coast of Lake Michigan. Battling mosquit...

A two day mission to rediscover, to share a few of My Favorite Things with a few of My Favorite People, my absolute oldest friends on the planet, since the single digits of my youth, my brain and reputation not yet tarnished by years of unintended abuse. Reunions sparse during the frenzy of raising kids, growing families, etching the circle of life within our separate universes. Months, even years pass but gaps easily forgotten in the familiar comfort of old friends. The advantage of history coupled with the luxury of time, worn and arthritic, seasoned with bouts of wisdom, patience and a humble appreciation for a lifetime of true, simple blessings. A two day mission then, challenge accepted, the tale unravels. One of our entourage has confused the plan at the outset, inadvertently heading to a rural campground while the rest of us await her arrival at my place. We begin then precisely where we left off in our elementary school days, lost and in a daze, mayhem day one. She has onl...