Return to the Home Planet

My mom took this as the kids and I came up the elevator into the Cincinnati Airport. Eric followed a week later (someone has to work so the rest of us can play!).

The best things about our visit to the United States (clearly not in order of importance):

1. Guess what language most people in the U.S. speak? I had a moment at the hotel the first day, before I picked up the telephone to request our car from valet parking, when I was trying to rehearse the phrases in French. Then I realized that I could ask for the car in my mother tongue!

2. The food. I know it may sound ridiculous to compare American chain food to European haute cuisine, but if you have tasted Graeter's, you'll understand. Swiss chocolate is great, but they don't put it in black raspberry ice cream. Plus, in the U.S., our entire family can eat out for under $25. That feeds about one of us in Geneva.

3. The food.

Come on, there's nothing this good on the billboards in Switzerland.

4. Capture the Flag. We spent a week in Grand Rapids with the Admiraal clan -- with all 22 grandchildren (ages 0 - 16). Despite the 100+ heat and the crispy grass, we managed to squeeze in several games. I showed myself to be a true Admiraal aunt by chasing opposing team members in bare feet and a skirt, executing several spectacular flying falls. We had the de rigeur Little Caesar's, though after a revolt led by the rising teenage set, Uccello's Pizza was added as well. We also played multi-age Scattergories (and we don't let the kids win), and the kids cleaned out Grandad's piggy bank by earning $5 each for singing "O Worship the King."

5. Sailing, sand, and sunsets (and a little karaoke).

Eric attempts to take a visiting friend on a windless (but beautiful) sailboat ride.

We spent another week at Douglas Lake, relaxing with the Waggener family, including my parents, my sister and kids, and some bonus Swedish cousins. Eric managed to flip most of the kids on the tube behind our very old speedboat (with a very new motor). We had Grandma Ruth's Swedish pancakes, fishing trips with Grandpa Joe, and a trip to Mackinaw City for Pizza Palace, Murdick's fudge, and karaoke night (which revealed to the Swedish cousins a slice of Americana perhaps better left under wraps).

6. Friends. Cincinnati was a whirlwind of bike rides with friends, parties with friends, church with friends, coffee with friends, dinner with friends, and even chance encounters at Costco and Panera with friends. What a joy to spend time with the people who share our life on the home planet.

7. Family. In Geneva, with our closest relatives an 8 hour car trip away, there is nothing we miss more than family. We were so thankful to spend time with the people who know us best. We were also thankful that, knowing us best, they still wanted to spend time with us.

My little sister.

8. Patriotism. The Dorr parade, with candy, fire truck sirens, and (a great idea, considering the weather) ice pops. Flag waving, wearing the red, white, and blue, and being unabashedly thankful to be an American. Also fireworks and sparklers.

Sparklers on the dock at Douglas Lake. We didn't even set anything on fire.

9. Friendly driving. I love the way that motorists in Wayland, Mich., and Connersville, Ind., wave to everyone they pass on the road. Eric loves the way that, when you need to pull out into traffic in Ohio, someone will almost always let you pull in front of them. And while Americans may complain about gas prices, fuel over there costs less than half of what it does here.

     Despite a trip that was really even more wonderful than I had hoped, I was ready to board the plane for Paris when the time came. If I could have taken all my family and friends with me, it would have been a perfect ending.
     No one slept much on the plane ride. By the time we rode three different RER trains to Gare de Lyon, navigated -- laden with 50-pound luggage -- work on the rails and broken escalators, and boarded the TGV train to Geneva, even the noisy children in our coach couldn't keep us awake. I awoke after two hours to views of clear blue skies and green mountain slopes rising out of rocky, river-cut valleys. Blearily, I staggered to the dining car and used my best French to ask if they could give me a BIG cup of coffee. The nice man behind the counter assured me, "Bien sûr, madame!" When he handed me my 6 ounce cup, half full of strong brew, I knew I was home.