Wish to apologize for long absence, only partially explained by trip to the west coast. In San Francisco, Elizabeth delightful, Sigrid difficult but loving, and Sigrid's husband in dire need of Lexapro. After visit to San Francisco, take flight up to Seattle to see grandmother, accompanied by Sigrid and Elizabeth, when find out that husband is not go to with us, hear self say in lying tone, Can't he just get off work? It won't be any fun without him! Sigrid naturally sees right through this and we have a brief by nasty fight about why I don't like her husband. Thankfully, nobody but Elizabeth witnesses spat--fight ends when Sigrid says that I don't want her to be happy and then attempts to leave room and slam door, but instead slips on tile in kitchen and falls on face. Thankfully, she laughs first and hardest, and we have a very pleasant time together for rest of vacation. Dave and Jenny join us in Seattle. Jenny very traumatized by her flight, and spends all of first afternoon under grandmother's bed and night in grandmother's bed with grandmother. The next day Jenny ventures down to the beach with me and Dave. She immediately runs briskly across the pebbly beach, stops at water's edge, and barks her head off. Sigrid, joining us a half hour later--a half hour of which is mostly filled by Jenny's barks, says that she must be reliving her traumatic time in New Orleans. She MUST be remembering the flood. For the sake of family peace, let this idiotic comment pass. Rest of afternoon is spent at beach (drizzly and we are all wearing light rain coats) digging for clams with Elizabeth and Jenny. At end of afternoon, Sigrid dares me to jump in the water. Tell her that I will if she will, and begin to psyche self up for inevitable dip. Sigrid say we should all go in--we can take Elizabeth back up to the house. David looks horrified at the suggestion and hurriedly interjects that there is no need to invite him, he will watch Elizabeth. Water is cold, but invigorating, and skin stops being blue after hot shower. The weather turns better and have a good stretch of days of tanning, swimming, kayaking, shoving cookies and pies in mouth throughout day and when the clock strikes five, guzzling wine and trying not to scream at Sigrid when she is irritating during the Scrabble game. Leave Whidbey Island tanned, chunky, and feeling tearful--Elizabeth wails when we leave (later find out that she was crying because we got to take cookies with us and she couldn't have a cookie). Flight massively delayed and feel extremely worried about Jenny's state. Finally board plane and selfishly begin to worry less about Jenny and more about self as we sit on runway for 2 hours. Couple and small children behind us speak in crystal clear voices about how irritated they are in snively, sarcastic voices, which makes me feel righteously un-irritated and patient except with them because they are the devil, the devil's wife, and their child. The child, who is about two-and-a-half, actually is the most sensible of the three. She precociously notes that She probably can't have any ginger ale because she doesn't see the cart. Her mother replies, That's true, we have to wait until we get up in the air, but do you want some Mommy Milk instead? Yes, please! answers the small person. Feel ill for the rest of the flight. Jenny is also ill during flight (presumably for other reasons) and when pick her up at odd sized baggage window, find that travel crate is besmeared with dog vomit. (Apparently Jenny has a secret taste for cherries as find 3 pits stuck in puke.) Dave thankfully takes over while I take Jenny out to curb so that we can both breath Fresh Air. When get home, Jenny immediately retreats under the bed and feel like beast to have dragged her across country twice in steerage. But the next day she is good at new at the park, very likely having forgotten her trip completely. Have said before and will say again now that the memory of a dog is often something to be admired.
