Wednesday 04 Jan 17
There's a 33% chance one of the most beautiful places on the planet will fall into the Pacific within the next 50 years (source). This is enough to keep the L&G&D&M family from making a permanent move there once Bà and Ông retire, but not enough to keep us from visiting.
The trip started out pretty well, mostly because we have the PreTSA Check option locked in, and that makes an airport trip with the kids and bags so much better. The flight was fairly uneventful, and Sea-Tac was kind enough to keep Bà and Ông warm while they waited for us. A quick trip to the Fox car rental place to pick up the family’s favorite mini-van, a Dodge Caravan with doors that open with the push of a button or Drakeson's mastery of “The Force,” and we were off to Uncle Steve’s/Aunt Myla’s/Aunt Mary’s/Uncle Dave’s house. For those not in the know, S&M are now only one fence away from M&D. You can actually look through the living room window of S&M’s house from the M&D dining window. At M&D’s house, Milli got to meet Grandpa for the first time. They hit it off pretty well with the expected Milli panic attack coming in about 30 seconds later than usual. Pretty good, if you ask me. Aunt Mary busted out the old toys for the kids, and I requested an unfinished children’s book from our last visit before heading over to S&M’s. Aunt Myla left the Christmas tree up for us to enjoy, and that was one of the best decisions yet, as Drakeson and Milli had trouble looking away.
Lan’s cousin Maddie and her beau, Spencer, joined us for dinner. It wasn’t long before the S&M house became a G-rated piano bar with Lan playing and Ông doing his best to sound like Pavarotti. L&G&D&M were set up in the downstairs area and crashed at the stroke of 8 pm. That time-difference was not playing around.
Thursday 05 Jan 17
Uncle Steve is part of some underground cult that aspires to be the best host possible. I don’t think anyone can beat him at this; he’s just too good. Breakfast and coffee were on the table before Milli was out of her night diaper, and our bellies were full enough to last more than twice the road trip we were about to embark upon.
The day was gorgeous with clear skies and crisp air. Interstate 5 and Highway 2 to Leavenworth gave us spectacular views of the Olympics, lodgepole pines of the Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie/Okanogan-Wenatchee National Forests, and lots of snow and ice. It also gave us a riveting discussion of great circles (largest possible circles drawn upon the surface of our planet) from Ông that came completely out of nowhere; and by nowhere, I mean the constant stream of tangential thought that is Ông’s brain. I’ll have more on that later.
Arriving in Leavenworth is a lot like being thrust into a beautiful, gated community with an HOA hell-bent on Bavarian themes. Even the Subway sign had a “Bavarian” font. No one was wearing lederhosen; probably because it was 9 DEGREES OUTSIDE!!!
We checked in really early at the Alpine Rivers Inn. A quick note on this inn: it doesn’t look like much from the outside, and it doesn’t get much better with the look of the room, but the view of the Wenatchee River rolling in-between patches of ice and snow from your balcony couldn’t get any better. We dropped our stuff off, grabbed Uncle Steve's Icicle Brewing Co. growler, and headed to the Icicle Brewery to fill it up. We chose “Dark Persuasion.” It is perfect and should be enjoyed by everyone of all ages.
After this, we went on a hunt for the place we would be getting our cross-country skis the next day. If the whole area hadn’t been covered in a foot of pristine snow, this little task would have seemed a lot shadier. Here are the instructions provided by the Alpine Rivers Inn: 1) Head west on 2 until you get to the Enzian Inn, and then proceed to the “building” in the back; 2) become confused at the serious lack of anything resembling a ski shack and drive around in circles a few times; 3) stare at the structure that is located by the frozen Enzian Inn pool, which is in NO WAY labelled with anything that would indicate skis are obtained here; 4) drive back to the front of the Enzian and send in Ông on a recon mission; 5) go back to the unmarked pool house and wait for a “guy” to come from out of nowhere and open the back door to reveal an entire array of cross-country ski gear; 6) then, ask this mystery man basic information and get answers that make absolutely no sense. This guy seemed to be way too high for it just being noon, but if you take into consideration that the angle of the sun makes it seems like it's 3 pm, it’s still too early to be that mentally incapacitated.
We went back downtown and stopped by a quaint little kitchen shop. At first, this was an effort to escape freezing to death, but we became enamored with the proprietors and bought two bottles of their homemade mustard and sweet pair of tongs. Next was a taffy shop that had an assortment of taffy similar to the strange flavors found on obscure bags of Jelly Bellies, e.g. chicken and waffles.
With taffies in hand, we drove down the most dangerous road in town to walk around The Sleeping Lady Lodge. Again, nothing but pure beauty in every direction. We found Chihuly's Icicles, a sculpture that contains 1,060 hand blown pieces of glass secured to steel, and stands 9 feet tall. We walked right under it the first time, which meant more time in the cold. It was here the discovery of just how cold a 3 year old’s feet can become, and how urgent it is to warm them up. After our core temperatures dropped 10 degrees from normal, we sought shelter in the restaurant, O’Grady's Pantry. It was here that Ông, in no quiet manner, discovered an upright piano and requested sheet music for Lan to play. The waiter, feeling Ông's ominous glare, called in a few favors and was able to print out a copy of Chopin’s Prelude in E Minor just before Ông was about to release the full measure of his wrath. Luckily for us, a pair of conservative octogenarians were eating at a table next to us and proceeded to speak to Lan about piano playing in the most annoying way possible. Lan had to field statements like, “I can’t believe you don’t play by ear,” from a woman who wouldn’t know a master’s trained pianist if one sat right in front of her and sight-read a piece of complex classical music on a piano that hadn’t been tuned in a dog’s age while enticing the rest of the restaurant patrons to leave their tables and come and enjoy the music. To show her we meant business, Lan played and we sang “Happy Birthday” to her husband. Take that.
The hotel was our next stop, and we rested and drank Dark Persuasion while Drakeson’s iced toes thawed. It wasn’t long until naps came and naps ended. Hunger crept in and it was off to the Baren Haus. One thing becomes very clear in a short amount of time when visiting Leavenworth: you will have no trouble finding a place to eat sausage and cabbage. The Baren Haus delivers on both of those, and we all left satisfied.
Well, it was getting late and colder, so we decided to head back. I shouldn’t say “we,” because Ông decided it was the perfect time to get out of the car in the middle of an intersection and declare that he would now be venturing on foot in the 4 degree weather to find the perfect parking space for the next day and then walk home in “90 minutes.” No one else in the car said anything in protest. Luckily for us and the Leavenworth PD, Ông made it back alive. I’m kicking myself for not asking him about the kick-ass parking spaces he must have located. We all slept well.
Friday 06 Jan 17
Man! The Alpine Rivers Inn can really make you feel special. The made-to-order breakfast was just the right amount of food, and it was excellent. The view of the Wenatchee River from the corner booth proved to be the perfect backdrop for our meal. Talk about getting the A-list treatment before making the trek into single digit weather.
Navigating the ski-rental algorithm was a little easier today, with the replacement person being marginally more helpful. We took off down Icicle Road and found what looked like an abandoned, yet snow-groomed, golf course where we could cross-country ski for free. This was my first time in skis and I didn’t disappoint. After falling twice and bruising my left Achilles tendon, I decided 100 yards was good enough and took those damn things off. It’s a good thing I was such a wuss, because Drakeson was not exactly enjoying the balance problems and was absolutely irate about the loss of feeling in his toes. I’d already had Milli strapped to my chest, so Drakeson getting placed on my back made me more of a visual oddity but less topsy-turvy. Lan, Bà, and Ông, frolicked in the snow on their skis while I walked the kids around. The landscape was gorgeous. Who knew all you had to do to make a golf course look beautiful was cover it in a foot of snow and add a majestic half-frozen river and snow-covered mountains in the landscape? Drakeson could only take this in small doses due to the frostbite, so after one extra trip to the car to warm up, we all decided it was time to move on to our next activity.
There's a 33% chance one of the most beautiful places on the planet will fall into the Pacific within the next 50 years (source). This is enough to keep the L&G&D&M family from making a permanent move there once Bà and Ông retire, but not enough to keep us from visiting.
The trip started out pretty well, mostly because we have the PreTSA Check option locked in, and that makes an airport trip with the kids and bags so much better. The flight was fairly uneventful, and Sea-Tac was kind enough to keep Bà and Ông warm while they waited for us. A quick trip to the Fox car rental place to pick up the family’s favorite mini-van, a Dodge Caravan with doors that open with the push of a button or Drakeson's mastery of “The Force,” and we were off to Uncle Steve’s/Aunt Myla’s/Aunt Mary’s/Uncle Dave’s house. For those not in the know, S&M are now only one fence away from M&D. You can actually look through the living room window of S&M’s house from the M&D dining window. At M&D’s house, Milli got to meet Grandpa for the first time. They hit it off pretty well with the expected Milli panic attack coming in about 30 seconds later than usual. Pretty good, if you ask me. Aunt Mary busted out the old toys for the kids, and I requested an unfinished children’s book from our last visit before heading over to S&M’s. Aunt Myla left the Christmas tree up for us to enjoy, and that was one of the best decisions yet, as Drakeson and Milli had trouble looking away.
Lan’s cousin Maddie and her beau, Spencer, joined us for dinner. It wasn’t long before the S&M house became a G-rated piano bar with Lan playing and Ông doing his best to sound like Pavarotti. L&G&D&M were set up in the downstairs area and crashed at the stroke of 8 pm. That time-difference was not playing around.
Thursday 05 Jan 17
Uncle Steve is part of some underground cult that aspires to be the best host possible. I don’t think anyone can beat him at this; he’s just too good. Breakfast and coffee were on the table before Milli was out of her night diaper, and our bellies were full enough to last more than twice the road trip we were about to embark upon.
The day was gorgeous with clear skies and crisp air. Interstate 5 and Highway 2 to Leavenworth gave us spectacular views of the Olympics, lodgepole pines of the Mt. Baker-Snoqualmie/Okanogan-Wenatchee National Forests, and lots of snow and ice. It also gave us a riveting discussion of great circles (largest possible circles drawn upon the surface of our planet) from Ông that came completely out of nowhere; and by nowhere, I mean the constant stream of tangential thought that is Ông’s brain. I’ll have more on that later.
Arriving in Leavenworth is a lot like being thrust into a beautiful, gated community with an HOA hell-bent on Bavarian themes. Even the Subway sign had a “Bavarian” font. No one was wearing lederhosen; probably because it was 9 DEGREES OUTSIDE!!!
We checked in really early at the Alpine Rivers Inn. A quick note on this inn: it doesn’t look like much from the outside, and it doesn’t get much better with the look of the room, but the view of the Wenatchee River rolling in-between patches of ice and snow from your balcony couldn’t get any better. We dropped our stuff off, grabbed Uncle Steve's Icicle Brewing Co. growler, and headed to the Icicle Brewery to fill it up. We chose “Dark Persuasion.” It is perfect and should be enjoyed by everyone of all ages.
After this, we went on a hunt for the place we would be getting our cross-country skis the next day. If the whole area hadn’t been covered in a foot of pristine snow, this little task would have seemed a lot shadier. Here are the instructions provided by the Alpine Rivers Inn: 1) Head west on 2 until you get to the Enzian Inn, and then proceed to the “building” in the back; 2) become confused at the serious lack of anything resembling a ski shack and drive around in circles a few times; 3) stare at the structure that is located by the frozen Enzian Inn pool, which is in NO WAY labelled with anything that would indicate skis are obtained here; 4) drive back to the front of the Enzian and send in Ông on a recon mission; 5) go back to the unmarked pool house and wait for a “guy” to come from out of nowhere and open the back door to reveal an entire array of cross-country ski gear; 6) then, ask this mystery man basic information and get answers that make absolutely no sense. This guy seemed to be way too high for it just being noon, but if you take into consideration that the angle of the sun makes it seems like it's 3 pm, it’s still too early to be that mentally incapacitated.
We went back downtown and stopped by a quaint little kitchen shop. At first, this was an effort to escape freezing to death, but we became enamored with the proprietors and bought two bottles of their homemade mustard and sweet pair of tongs. Next was a taffy shop that had an assortment of taffy similar to the strange flavors found on obscure bags of Jelly Bellies, e.g. chicken and waffles.
With taffies in hand, we drove down the most dangerous road in town to walk around The Sleeping Lady Lodge. Again, nothing but pure beauty in every direction. We found Chihuly's Icicles, a sculpture that contains 1,060 hand blown pieces of glass secured to steel, and stands 9 feet tall. We walked right under it the first time, which meant more time in the cold. It was here the discovery of just how cold a 3 year old’s feet can become, and how urgent it is to warm them up. After our core temperatures dropped 10 degrees from normal, we sought shelter in the restaurant, O’Grady's Pantry. It was here that Ông, in no quiet manner, discovered an upright piano and requested sheet music for Lan to play. The waiter, feeling Ông's ominous glare, called in a few favors and was able to print out a copy of Chopin’s Prelude in E Minor just before Ông was about to release the full measure of his wrath. Luckily for us, a pair of conservative octogenarians were eating at a table next to us and proceeded to speak to Lan about piano playing in the most annoying way possible. Lan had to field statements like, “I can’t believe you don’t play by ear,” from a woman who wouldn’t know a master’s trained pianist if one sat right in front of her and sight-read a piece of complex classical music on a piano that hadn’t been tuned in a dog’s age while enticing the rest of the restaurant patrons to leave their tables and come and enjoy the music. To show her we meant business, Lan played and we sang “Happy Birthday” to her husband. Take that.
The hotel was our next stop, and we rested and drank Dark Persuasion while Drakeson’s iced toes thawed. It wasn’t long until naps came and naps ended. Hunger crept in and it was off to the Baren Haus. One thing becomes very clear in a short amount of time when visiting Leavenworth: you will have no trouble finding a place to eat sausage and cabbage. The Baren Haus delivers on both of those, and we all left satisfied.
Well, it was getting late and colder, so we decided to head back. I shouldn’t say “we,” because Ông decided it was the perfect time to get out of the car in the middle of an intersection and declare that he would now be venturing on foot in the 4 degree weather to find the perfect parking space for the next day and then walk home in “90 minutes.” No one else in the car said anything in protest. Luckily for us and the Leavenworth PD, Ông made it back alive. I’m kicking myself for not asking him about the kick-ass parking spaces he must have located. We all slept well.
Friday 06 Jan 17
Man! The Alpine Rivers Inn can really make you feel special. The made-to-order breakfast was just the right amount of food, and it was excellent. The view of the Wenatchee River from the corner booth proved to be the perfect backdrop for our meal. Talk about getting the A-list treatment before making the trek into single digit weather.
Navigating the ski-rental algorithm was a little easier today, with the replacement person being marginally more helpful. We took off down Icicle Road and found what looked like an abandoned, yet snow-groomed, golf course where we could cross-country ski for free. This was my first time in skis and I didn’t disappoint. After falling twice and bruising my left Achilles tendon, I decided 100 yards was good enough and took those damn things off. It’s a good thing I was such a wuss, because Drakeson was not exactly enjoying the balance problems and was absolutely irate about the loss of feeling in his toes. I’d already had Milli strapped to my chest, so Drakeson getting placed on my back made me more of a visual oddity but less topsy-turvy. Lan, Bà, and Ông, frolicked in the snow on their skis while I walked the kids around. The landscape was gorgeous. Who knew all you had to do to make a golf course look beautiful was cover it in a foot of snow and add a majestic half-frozen river and snow-covered mountains in the landscape? Drakeson could only take this in small doses due to the frostbite, so after one extra trip to the car to warm up, we all decided it was time to move on to our next activity.
Lunch was at a place recommended by Grandpa called “The Soup Cellar.” Although the word “soup” was clearly labelled on the door and marquis, it was incredibly hard to spot on the menu. I had the chili in a bread bowl. Bà had chili in a normal bowl. I forget what the other people had because it wasn’t chili, and chili is the only real choice to make in freezing weather. Lan was very pleased with her order, as usual. We picked up 4 packs of white chili for Grandpa, marveled at the over one thousand dollars of $1 bills stapled and graffitied to the walls, and left.
The Leavenworth pharmacy is literally right next door to the Soup Cellar. I’m sure that’s just a coincidence, but regardless of the real reason, it was our next stop. The pharmacist was nice enough to provide Ông with 2 doses of the blood pressure medicine he’d forgotten in Seattle.
Now that Ông was going to live, we all thought it would be a great idea to run into the Rocky Mountain Chocolate shop. Wait. Did I forget to mention that there was plenty of parking everywhere? I mean, there were parking spaces all over the place. Turns out, the dossier compiled by Ông from his insane, late-night, arctic excursion was worthless. The chocolate shop was not worthless. It had the most wonderful assortment of candied apples made on-sight. Drakeson and I played the game where if we both select the same type of apple, we would get it. As fate would have it, the caramel covered Granny Smith with milk and white chocolate chips drizzled in chocolate syrup was too much for both our eyes to pass up. I also bought some white chocolate macadamia nut barks which were the best that Ông had ever tasted. Ever. Anywhere.
After taking pictures by a giant stuffed bear in lederhosen, we returned the skis. There was, yet, a different person who came to man the shack. Has everyone seen the Twilight Zone or X-Files? I can’t shake the feeling that this shack exists within a critical point of intersecting metaphysical planes. There’s probably a copy of a Berestain Bears book with the "stain" spelled with an “e” just behind the counter (link).
Our minds were reeling from the combination of chili and going in and out of warped space, so we decided we needed to do something to reset our Chi and go into a hot-tub while it was 8 degrees outside. This sounds like the craziest decision you could make, and the truck full of college girls laughing at me as I walked through the snow wearing nothing but short black jammers didn’t help at all, but, and I mean, but, when you get into the hot-tub and turn on the jets, you experience something very close to what Buddha must have felt when he finally made it. Nirvana would have been reached if there had been any leftover Dark Persuasion, but that had been frozen in the fridge along with the bananas and apples.
I forgot to mention the frozen fruit. This bears reflection because of Ông’s peculiar medical condition. The old adage “an apple a day keeps the doctor away” takes on a whole new meaning with Ông. If Ông doesn’t eat an apple a day, he will need a doctor….to perform CPR. The man’s very essence is contingent on apple sustenance. Something preternatural occurs when he consumes the flesh of rare varieties; he glows.
Our minds were reeling from the combination of chili and going in and out of warped space, so we decided we needed to do something to reset our Chi and go into a hot-tub while it was 8 degrees outside. This sounds like the craziest decision you could make, and the truck full of college girls laughing at me as I walked through the snow wearing nothing but short black jammers didn’t help at all, but, and I mean, but, when you get into the hot-tub and turn on the jets, you experience something very close to what Buddha must have felt when he finally made it. Nirvana would have been reached if there had been any leftover Dark Persuasion, but that had been frozen in the fridge along with the bananas and apples.
I forgot to mention the frozen fruit. This bears reflection because of Ông’s peculiar medical condition. The old adage “an apple a day keeps the doctor away” takes on a whole new meaning with Ông. If Ông doesn’t eat an apple a day, he will need a doctor….to perform CPR. The man’s very essence is contingent on apple sustenance. Something preternatural occurs when he consumes the flesh of rare varieties; he glows.
Lan, Drakeson, and Milli napped during hot-tub time #1. When we were all ready, we went exploring the town looking for something to keep Drakeson’s feet from freezing. No electrical socks are to be found in Leavenworth, so don’t go looking. There are a bunch of those pocket hand-warmers, and that's what we eventually bought. We stuffed a pair of these in Drakeson’s boots and attempted to go tubing at Ski Hill. We had scouted out the area earlier and were all raring to give it a go. Except Drakeson. He wanted no part of the 30 degree incline and breakneck speed. The people that run the slopes were awesome and offered everybody one free ride. It’s something you definitely should do once, and Drakeson said he would do it when he’s "bigger and bigger."
Afterwards, we went down to the Riverside Park trail by town. Thank the maker that there were so many parking spots available. Bà and Ông put on the snowshoes we were borrowing from S&M. The trail was incredible. An icy wonderland with the moonlit river on one side and the well-lit town on the other. The trail is practically a straight line, making it nearly impossible to get lost. If you happen to be walking with Ông on this trail, that nearly impossible becomes probable. Don’t ask. Maybe it was the lack of apples.
Afterwards, we went down to the Riverside Park trail by town. Thank the maker that there were so many parking spots available. Bà and Ông put on the snowshoes we were borrowing from S&M. The trail was incredible. An icy wonderland with the moonlit river on one side and the well-lit town on the other. The trail is practically a straight line, making it nearly impossible to get lost. If you happen to be walking with Ông on this trail, that nearly impossible becomes probable. Don’t ask. Maybe it was the lack of apples.
Leavenworth on a Friday night is a lot more hopping than it is on a Thursday night. We warmed up with cold Colchuck Raspberry Wheat Ale at the packed Icicle Brewing Co. and went looking for a place to eat after refilling the growler with their Priebe Porter. Our first dinner choice was purportedly being rented out for a party, but there was a curiously placed, lederhosen-wearing chap directing us to the restaurant just upstairs. A restaurant that was much more classy and at least twice as expensive. Did that stop us from bringing two rowdy children along, one dressed in a head-to-toe Winnie the Pooh costume? Heck, no. This meal was the bee's knees. If Bà has a picture of the spread, you should definitely check it out.
Back at the Alpine Rivers Inn, it was Lan and Drakeson's turn to get in the hot-tub with Bà and Ông. I hung back with Milli and played with choking hazards while gazing at the river. Milli and I didn’t miss a thing.
Saturday 07 Jan 17
How do you know if you’re a parent? Well, if you’re packing your kids clothes for the drive home and you come across a pair of sweatpants with a bizarre yellow-brown stain directly in the middle of the buttocks region and the first thing you do is put your nose ~1-2 mm away to investigate the smell, you might be a parent. Just so you know, it was salt water taffy residue from when Drakeson dropped his portion of the maple syrup and bacon piece. Washed right out.
Breakfast was amazing again with us getting the corner table. This time it was buffet style with real oatmeal. Not any of that instant crap that only people from the Jersey Shore would eat; we’re talking steel-cut, take forever to cook oats and water. This was a very big deal for Ông. There was a serious bonding moment between him and the lady preparing all of the food. It was surreal.
The last thing on the Leavenworth agenda was to give Old Man Winter one more go at trying to kill us and embark on a sleigh ride at Red-Tail Canyon Farm. There you will greeted by farm dogs, a teepee, and a 100-year-old sleigh pulled by mules. Our driver looked like a gold-rush prospector and carried on like Bob Hope. I thought he was charming. Bà thought he wasn’t enough to distract her from the constant start and stopping that left our bodies approaching 0 degrees Kelvin. You see, at the Red-Tail Canyon Farm, the sleigh rides go in tandem with two other sleighs. You’re actually going through the woods, and when there are hills, you have to wait until the sleigh in front clears the path. There are no breaks on these things, and you don’t want to have a collision. I lost all feeling from the ankles down half-way through. Drakeson, at least, was curled up on my lap under a blanket and did great. Bà is tough to impress, but she's no Milli. Milli slept through the whole damn thing.
The drive back was just as gorgeous as the drive there. When we got to Steven’s Pass, the feeling in my feet returned, and Ông started going back and forth from being a part of the conversation and talking about code.
There was a warm welcome at both S&M’s house and M&D’s. Grandpa was more than ready to ride along and visit the cemetery to visit Grandma. Of all the views in that state, Grandma sure has one of the best. We drove by Grandpa’s parents' grave, and then we were off to Christ the King. I’m still not sure what Grandpa did while we waited in the car, but at least I know Ông was using the "little boy’s room."
When we got back to Mary’s and Dave’s, there was a big taco dinner buffet all ready for us. That’s right, tacos. I’m just as confused as you are as to why tacos are so popular in this part of the U.S. Anyway, I ate about 5 of them, and we all got comfortable with beer floats while we watched the Seahawks beat whoever it was that they were playing. I honestly wasn’t paying that much attention - too busy playing with the kids and Aunt Mary’s blocks.
L&G&D&M decided it was time to head back and get ready for bed, but not before Aunt Myla and Lan had one of their patented 2-hour long talks over multiple glasses of wine. Lan slept well.
Sunday 08 Jan 2017
Bà came over from M&D’s house to have breakfast with L&G&D&M&S. Uncle Steve had the coffee ready and broke out an electric griddle to prepare breakfast sausage, eggs, and fruit. The man’s a machine. Ông went to church with Grandpa, Aunt Mary, and Uncle Dave.
A list of activities was compiled and selections were made. Once Ông came back, we were off to the Seattle Aquarium. Seattle decided it had had quite enough sunshine and provided us with a bleary sky complete with rain to accompany us on our journey. The aquarium was a lot of fun. We lost Ông only twice, and Drakeson and Milli got to touch some anemones. Drakeson also joined the Toddler Time, where he made a flounder print with paint and got a Wolf Eel painted on his cheek. He was then insistent that everyone get their faces painted. Lan got an octopus, Bà got Nemo, I got Dory, and Ông got some ridiculous looking penguin that was probably the first and only time the artist had to perform that act of wasting paint. After Milli saw the penguin, she declined to have her skin defiled.
One of the many things that is cool about being a parent is that you read a LOT of books about animals and can spot an Oystercatcher faster than a hot knife melts through butter. That’s all I have to say about that.
After the aquarium, Lan, Drakeson, Bà, and Ông went on the heart-stopping thrill ride, “Wings Over Washington.” This is simply a harness you’re strapped into and dangled over a big screen while they spritz you with water or pine scent depending on the scene. Milli and I had better things to do. This was because some slicker-than-owl-shit lawyer thought this event was too much for a 14-month-old. We didn’t care. Milli and I had a little date on the Seattle Great Wheel, where we enjoyed a wonderful view of Puget Sound and downtown Seattle. We still had time after the ride, so we scooted on over to the aquarium again for Milli to see the parts she missed while she was napping.
We later piled in the mini-van and headed over to the Fisherman’s Terminal, where we met Uncle Steve and ate the best-damn, fried oysters at Little Chinooks next the fisherman’s memorial. The memorial is there for those who perish out at sea. We saw one woman who stood there in the rain. It was sad.
After a delicious lunch, Uncle Steve took us to see the Fremont Troll. And I thought Austin’s gorilla artists were ambitious. This thing is gigantic. We couldn’t stay long as we were busier than a one-legged cat in a sandbox.
Bà and Ông got dropped off, and Uncle Steve guided us to the Edmonds Costco. Damn place was busy on a Sunday afternoon, but we were able to pick up stuffed salmon, Dungeness crab, and makings for crab melts and check out in what Uncle Steve considered to be record time. The whole thing happened faster than a knife fight in a phone booth.
After dropping off Lan, Uncle Steve took me through some magic portal where there were small breweries/pubs everywhere you looked. I had some amazing beer and saw someone drinking from Das Boot. Uncle Steve excitedly pointed out that the drinker of Das Boot was the legendary Rick Steves. This was confirmed by 4x6 name-card with “Rick Steves” written on it. Turns out, this guy is a big deal. I was getting way too buzzed off the multiple beers with >13% ABV to really comprehend our luck, but that was OK.
At S&Ms we ate a huge meal and followed it up again with wonderful music and singing. Everything was great and I was grinnin’ like a possum eatin’ a sweet tater. Uncle Steve capped off the night with delicious, homemade limoncello. Unfortunately, I was feeling as fat as a tick from dinner and went to sleep feeling pretty ill. Oh, well. It’s a tough life when the worst part of your day is overeating crab melts and drinking top-notch microbrews.
Monday 09 Jan 2017
Last full day people, so hang on. Coffee and breakfast for everyone must be a staple in Uncle Steve’s routine. I’m almost positive that if he didn’t get it ready before everyone was awake, there would be a short circuit event in his brain.
Bà was on board with going to the Pike Place Market, but Ông thought it would be much more awesome to do code. Thankfully, his father was there to chat with him so he could do something actually productive, like spend some time with Grandpa.
The market was great. Drakeson took his picture next to a monkfish put on display by the famous fish-throwing seafood sellers. Drakeson then got the crap scared out of him by that same monkfish. as one of the sellers pulled on a string tied to the fish, making it jump when Drakeson got close. Those guys.
We went to the tea shop we routinely visit and picked up an insane amount of Orange Spice Black Tea. It’s not really that insane, considering how much we drink the stuff. We then bought some smoked salmon from the fish-throwers and walked the market. We passed the first Starbucks again. I still haven’t gone in and still don’t plan to. After tasting some amazing cheese curds at Beecher's, we picked up some pastries from a favorite spot and headed back to S&M’s house. Did I mention the amazing parking spot I got right next to the market? I didn’t? Well, let me tell you, it was perfect. It was like I had some half-crazed mathematician scope out the area in the dead of night while freezing his ass off.
After a quick lunch, we fetched Ông and took off to tour the ferry circuit. Get this: Ông thought that he could get out of the car at the Bainbridge Ferry, haul ass down Marion Street, hook a left on 4th avenue, high-tail it to 300 Pine, go into the Macy’s, find the Frango Chocolate display, make a hasty transaction with another human being, and then take the reverse route in the 5 minutes we had before the ferry left port. I know what you’re thinking. There’s no way in hell he could have interacted with another person in that much time. First, it would have been, “I’d like to purchase these chocolates,” and then next it would be, “Have you ever heard of the ‘travelling salesman conundrum? Cause, WOW, it’s a tough one. I’ve never even come close to a viable theory. There are plenty of smart people that believe that an algorithm actually exists, and they're probably right. I still like to….” You get the idea. The man can run fast, though, so he’s got that going for him.
I hung back with Milli, who decided to sleep through our first boat ride. While the others were off, Ông decided to do something completely out of character and wander off by himself. While Drakeson, Lan, & Bà were having a WC break, Bà texted Ông to get his location. He told her that he was at the top lefthand section of the ferry, and that he would wait there to meet them. Approximately 5 minutes later, Bà made it to where Ông said he was standing, only to find - you guessed it - no one there. Later on, after finding him, his excuse for bailing was that he stood around for what seemed was appropriately long enough, and got bored. My theory is that he was never there to begin with, and that when he goes off on his own, it’s because he’s some super-math spy out to stop evil masterminds from ransacking our educational system. Who am I kidding? He just stood there for 30 seconds, spaced out on a hundred different complex thoughts, and when he came to, figured he’d been there for an hour, and walked off. Milli and I had a great time watching a seagull fly along the side of the ferry.
Our little minivan was off and ready to explore Bainbridge Island, sort of. We quickly crossed the Agate Pass Bridge, and were just about to head to Poulsbo, when the craziest thing happened: Ông made an executive decision to head to the Saint Peter Mission and visit Chief Seathl’s grave. Turns out this famous Native American was kind to the white man while we were busy taking over, so they named Seattle after him. Yes, the names are different, but since none of the white men back then could speak the native Lushshootseed language, Seattle sounded close enough, and no one complained. Either way, it was pretty cool to check out the site. Way to go, Ông!
We zoomed over to Poulsbo and barely missed seeing Ông’s Aunt play bridge on the east side of Liberty Bay. We stopped for some chocolate at Boehm’s Chocolates, where Ông, yet again, had the best damn white chocolate he’s ever tasted in his life. The Sound Brewery was next, and so, leaving the east side of Poulsbo, which is made to look like a Viking village had sexual relations with a Bavarian village, and then had a Viking/Bavarian village baby, we made it over to the west side of Poulsbo, which does its best to pretend the Viking/Bavarian baby village is not even there. My keen sense of direction guided me to where the quaint microbrewery had once been. Ông got out with the growler, but quickly got back in, as the proprietors of Sound Brewery had moved up the road to a less quaint, emo-barfly filled building that looked like it was an Outback Steakhouse in its former life. The growler got filled with Uncle Steve's delicious selection of Monk’s Discretion (that's 2 monks in one day for anyone who's counting), and it was back to the Edmonds Ferry to head home. This time, Milli was awake, and someone kept close tabs on Ông.
At S&M’s house, it was a hamburgerpalooza with Ông showing us some wonderful photos of Aunt Mary, Uncle Dave, Bà, and Ông hiking and camping when Ông was visibly younger. Bà just looked like she always does. Aunt Mary was very vocal about not letting the crowd stare too long at her, wearing knee-high wool socks and packing gear, for obvious concerns about being modest. Too bad, really. Ông didn’t feel comfortable moving on to the all-Mary swimsuit file after her protests.
It wouldn’t be a Kratzke dinner gathering without music, and that’s exactly how we concluded our trip. What a wonderful time we all had, and we can’t thank our hosts enough for taking us in and treating us like royalty. Till next time.
Saturday 07 Jan 17
How do you know if you’re a parent? Well, if you’re packing your kids clothes for the drive home and you come across a pair of sweatpants with a bizarre yellow-brown stain directly in the middle of the buttocks region and the first thing you do is put your nose ~1-2 mm away to investigate the smell, you might be a parent. Just so you know, it was salt water taffy residue from when Drakeson dropped his portion of the maple syrup and bacon piece. Washed right out.
Breakfast was amazing again with us getting the corner table. This time it was buffet style with real oatmeal. Not any of that instant crap that only people from the Jersey Shore would eat; we’re talking steel-cut, take forever to cook oats and water. This was a very big deal for Ông. There was a serious bonding moment between him and the lady preparing all of the food. It was surreal.
The last thing on the Leavenworth agenda was to give Old Man Winter one more go at trying to kill us and embark on a sleigh ride at Red-Tail Canyon Farm. There you will greeted by farm dogs, a teepee, and a 100-year-old sleigh pulled by mules. Our driver looked like a gold-rush prospector and carried on like Bob Hope. I thought he was charming. Bà thought he wasn’t enough to distract her from the constant start and stopping that left our bodies approaching 0 degrees Kelvin. You see, at the Red-Tail Canyon Farm, the sleigh rides go in tandem with two other sleighs. You’re actually going through the woods, and when there are hills, you have to wait until the sleigh in front clears the path. There are no breaks on these things, and you don’t want to have a collision. I lost all feeling from the ankles down half-way through. Drakeson, at least, was curled up on my lap under a blanket and did great. Bà is tough to impress, but she's no Milli. Milli slept through the whole damn thing.
The drive back was just as gorgeous as the drive there. When we got to Steven’s Pass, the feeling in my feet returned, and Ông started going back and forth from being a part of the conversation and talking about code.
There was a warm welcome at both S&M’s house and M&D’s. Grandpa was more than ready to ride along and visit the cemetery to visit Grandma. Of all the views in that state, Grandma sure has one of the best. We drove by Grandpa’s parents' grave, and then we were off to Christ the King. I’m still not sure what Grandpa did while we waited in the car, but at least I know Ông was using the "little boy’s room."
When we got back to Mary’s and Dave’s, there was a big taco dinner buffet all ready for us. That’s right, tacos. I’m just as confused as you are as to why tacos are so popular in this part of the U.S. Anyway, I ate about 5 of them, and we all got comfortable with beer floats while we watched the Seahawks beat whoever it was that they were playing. I honestly wasn’t paying that much attention - too busy playing with the kids and Aunt Mary’s blocks.
L&G&D&M decided it was time to head back and get ready for bed, but not before Aunt Myla and Lan had one of their patented 2-hour long talks over multiple glasses of wine. Lan slept well.
Sunday 08 Jan 2017
Bà came over from M&D’s house to have breakfast with L&G&D&M&S. Uncle Steve had the coffee ready and broke out an electric griddle to prepare breakfast sausage, eggs, and fruit. The man’s a machine. Ông went to church with Grandpa, Aunt Mary, and Uncle Dave.
A list of activities was compiled and selections were made. Once Ông came back, we were off to the Seattle Aquarium. Seattle decided it had had quite enough sunshine and provided us with a bleary sky complete with rain to accompany us on our journey. The aquarium was a lot of fun. We lost Ông only twice, and Drakeson and Milli got to touch some anemones. Drakeson also joined the Toddler Time, where he made a flounder print with paint and got a Wolf Eel painted on his cheek. He was then insistent that everyone get their faces painted. Lan got an octopus, Bà got Nemo, I got Dory, and Ông got some ridiculous looking penguin that was probably the first and only time the artist had to perform that act of wasting paint. After Milli saw the penguin, she declined to have her skin defiled.
One of the many things that is cool about being a parent is that you read a LOT of books about animals and can spot an Oystercatcher faster than a hot knife melts through butter. That’s all I have to say about that.
After the aquarium, Lan, Drakeson, Bà, and Ông went on the heart-stopping thrill ride, “Wings Over Washington.” This is simply a harness you’re strapped into and dangled over a big screen while they spritz you with water or pine scent depending on the scene. Milli and I had better things to do. This was because some slicker-than-owl-shit lawyer thought this event was too much for a 14-month-old. We didn’t care. Milli and I had a little date on the Seattle Great Wheel, where we enjoyed a wonderful view of Puget Sound and downtown Seattle. We still had time after the ride, so we scooted on over to the aquarium again for Milli to see the parts she missed while she was napping.
We later piled in the mini-van and headed over to the Fisherman’s Terminal, where we met Uncle Steve and ate the best-damn, fried oysters at Little Chinooks next the fisherman’s memorial. The memorial is there for those who perish out at sea. We saw one woman who stood there in the rain. It was sad.
After a delicious lunch, Uncle Steve took us to see the Fremont Troll. And I thought Austin’s gorilla artists were ambitious. This thing is gigantic. We couldn’t stay long as we were busier than a one-legged cat in a sandbox.
Bà and Ông got dropped off, and Uncle Steve guided us to the Edmonds Costco. Damn place was busy on a Sunday afternoon, but we were able to pick up stuffed salmon, Dungeness crab, and makings for crab melts and check out in what Uncle Steve considered to be record time. The whole thing happened faster than a knife fight in a phone booth.
After dropping off Lan, Uncle Steve took me through some magic portal where there were small breweries/pubs everywhere you looked. I had some amazing beer and saw someone drinking from Das Boot. Uncle Steve excitedly pointed out that the drinker of Das Boot was the legendary Rick Steves. This was confirmed by 4x6 name-card with “Rick Steves” written on it. Turns out, this guy is a big deal. I was getting way too buzzed off the multiple beers with >13% ABV to really comprehend our luck, but that was OK.
At S&Ms we ate a huge meal and followed it up again with wonderful music and singing. Everything was great and I was grinnin’ like a possum eatin’ a sweet tater. Uncle Steve capped off the night with delicious, homemade limoncello. Unfortunately, I was feeling as fat as a tick from dinner and went to sleep feeling pretty ill. Oh, well. It’s a tough life when the worst part of your day is overeating crab melts and drinking top-notch microbrews.
Milli in Washington
Monday 09 Jan 2017
Last full day people, so hang on. Coffee and breakfast for everyone must be a staple in Uncle Steve’s routine. I’m almost positive that if he didn’t get it ready before everyone was awake, there would be a short circuit event in his brain.
Bà was on board with going to the Pike Place Market, but Ông thought it would be much more awesome to do code. Thankfully, his father was there to chat with him so he could do something actually productive, like spend some time with Grandpa.
The market was great. Drakeson took his picture next to a monkfish put on display by the famous fish-throwing seafood sellers. Drakeson then got the crap scared out of him by that same monkfish. as one of the sellers pulled on a string tied to the fish, making it jump when Drakeson got close. Those guys.
We went to the tea shop we routinely visit and picked up an insane amount of Orange Spice Black Tea. It’s not really that insane, considering how much we drink the stuff. We then bought some smoked salmon from the fish-throwers and walked the market. We passed the first Starbucks again. I still haven’t gone in and still don’t plan to. After tasting some amazing cheese curds at Beecher's, we picked up some pastries from a favorite spot and headed back to S&M’s house. Did I mention the amazing parking spot I got right next to the market? I didn’t? Well, let me tell you, it was perfect. It was like I had some half-crazed mathematician scope out the area in the dead of night while freezing his ass off.
After a quick lunch, we fetched Ông and took off to tour the ferry circuit. Get this: Ông thought that he could get out of the car at the Bainbridge Ferry, haul ass down Marion Street, hook a left on 4th avenue, high-tail it to 300 Pine, go into the Macy’s, find the Frango Chocolate display, make a hasty transaction with another human being, and then take the reverse route in the 5 minutes we had before the ferry left port. I know what you’re thinking. There’s no way in hell he could have interacted with another person in that much time. First, it would have been, “I’d like to purchase these chocolates,” and then next it would be, “Have you ever heard of the ‘travelling salesman conundrum? Cause, WOW, it’s a tough one. I’ve never even come close to a viable theory. There are plenty of smart people that believe that an algorithm actually exists, and they're probably right. I still like to….” You get the idea. The man can run fast, though, so he’s got that going for him.
I hung back with Milli, who decided to sleep through our first boat ride. While the others were off, Ông decided to do something completely out of character and wander off by himself. While Drakeson, Lan, & Bà were having a WC break, Bà texted Ông to get his location. He told her that he was at the top lefthand section of the ferry, and that he would wait there to meet them. Approximately 5 minutes later, Bà made it to where Ông said he was standing, only to find - you guessed it - no one there. Later on, after finding him, his excuse for bailing was that he stood around for what seemed was appropriately long enough, and got bored. My theory is that he was never there to begin with, and that when he goes off on his own, it’s because he’s some super-math spy out to stop evil masterminds from ransacking our educational system. Who am I kidding? He just stood there for 30 seconds, spaced out on a hundred different complex thoughts, and when he came to, figured he’d been there for an hour, and walked off. Milli and I had a great time watching a seagull fly along the side of the ferry.
Our little minivan was off and ready to explore Bainbridge Island, sort of. We quickly crossed the Agate Pass Bridge, and were just about to head to Poulsbo, when the craziest thing happened: Ông made an executive decision to head to the Saint Peter Mission and visit Chief Seathl’s grave. Turns out this famous Native American was kind to the white man while we were busy taking over, so they named Seattle after him. Yes, the names are different, but since none of the white men back then could speak the native Lushshootseed language, Seattle sounded close enough, and no one complained. Either way, it was pretty cool to check out the site. Way to go, Ông!
We zoomed over to Poulsbo and barely missed seeing Ông’s Aunt play bridge on the east side of Liberty Bay. We stopped for some chocolate at Boehm’s Chocolates, where Ông, yet again, had the best damn white chocolate he’s ever tasted in his life. The Sound Brewery was next, and so, leaving the east side of Poulsbo, which is made to look like a Viking village had sexual relations with a Bavarian village, and then had a Viking/Bavarian village baby, we made it over to the west side of Poulsbo, which does its best to pretend the Viking/Bavarian baby village is not even there. My keen sense of direction guided me to where the quaint microbrewery had once been. Ông got out with the growler, but quickly got back in, as the proprietors of Sound Brewery had moved up the road to a less quaint, emo-barfly filled building that looked like it was an Outback Steakhouse in its former life. The growler got filled with Uncle Steve's delicious selection of Monk’s Discretion (that's 2 monks in one day for anyone who's counting), and it was back to the Edmonds Ferry to head home. This time, Milli was awake, and someone kept close tabs on Ông.
At S&M’s house, it was a hamburgerpalooza with Ông showing us some wonderful photos of Aunt Mary, Uncle Dave, Bà, and Ông hiking and camping when Ông was visibly younger. Bà just looked like she always does. Aunt Mary was very vocal about not letting the crowd stare too long at her, wearing knee-high wool socks and packing gear, for obvious concerns about being modest. Too bad, really. Ông didn’t feel comfortable moving on to the all-Mary swimsuit file after her protests.
It wouldn’t be a Kratzke dinner gathering without music, and that’s exactly how we concluded our trip. What a wonderful time we all had, and we can’t thank our hosts enough for taking us in and treating us like royalty. Till next time.
