There must be something wrong with me. I had a short discussion with someone yesterday regarding taking a vacation. I'm really not interested. I found over the last three years the school year is so mixed up with the boys on different schedules, a husband who holds three or more part time jobs and my own obligations we hardly warm a spot in our home. A number of years ago when the boys were younger, we asked them what they would like to do for vacation. Well of course Daniel or Dan as he is now being called, wanted to go on a dig, and Sasha wanted to eat pizza in bed and watch television. So off we headed to Midland, there was a dig going on at one of the forts used by the early French missionaries and the public was welcome to join in. We then got a hotel room, ordered pizza and watched a rented movie in bed. How easy was that. We did a couple of other touristy things, and drove home quite satisfied to have spent the week together without interruption of the rest of our lives . Then in May of 2001 a group from our parish was going to Washington, and again that's what they wanted to do. So the boys and I went with a bunch of very senior members of our congregation and did a really touristy thing in Washington, we separated from the group a day and went to the Smithsonian, and took public transit from there to "Springfield" where we were staying. Even though I was bus sick the whole way there, it once again proved to be a rewarding vacation. I can't think of a block of time at present where we would all be available. That's the only thing that makes me sad. I can however, and just fake it. Stay home with my home boys and do some eating of pizza in bed, and dig in the garden. Sounds like a plan.