A Delaware Family Christmas

I left Pierre before dawn Christmas morning, beginning my ping-pong holiday journey to the east coast: Pierre to Watertown to Minneapolis to Detroit to Philadelphia. All of my flights arrived in their destinations early, so my concerns about the short connection times were alleviated.

Even though I moved away seven and half years ago, descending into the airport with a view of the Center City skyline still gave me a feeling of "home." This remained the case even with the recent completion of the Comcast Center, now the tallest building in the city, surpassing One Liberty Place.

I arrived in Philly after 3:00 p.m., picked up my car, and headed south on 95 into Delaware. I could have driven blindfolded. (It's comforting to know I can be away for so long and not have the place where I grew up change. Well, besides the Phillies winning World Series.) True to my intention, I arrived at my parents' house just as Christmas dinner was about to be served. Good thing too because I'd only had a couple of Pop Tarts and a Clif Bar since 5:15 a.m.

It was still daylight out when I arrived, which I thought would eliminate the element of surprise. I put on the Santa Claus hat I had bought the previous night in Pierre, walked up to the front door, and rang the doorbell. My dad answered and... just looked at me. He didn't even recognize me. Granted, I had the hat on, I was a bit scruffy, he hadn't seen me in two years, and wasn't expecting me. But still!

The funniest part was even though he didn't know who the hell I was, he still let me in the house. So, I walk in, standing just inside the front door. All three of my siblings are sitting on the couch, craning their necks to see who just walked in. They all stared for one, two seconds, and then, "Oh my god!"

So, the three of them all run up and give me a hug. My mom and grandmom then come in from the kitchen to see what all the commotion is about. It's only then my father finally gives me a hug. Dad, come on!

My sister's two boys were also there. They claimed to know who I was, even though I'd only seen them just once before. The eldest was in a grim reaper costume.

We sat down to dinner. I was asked who I voted for in the presidential election. Obama, duh. Dad actually voted for him too. Or, as he put it, "I voted for Biden and Obama just so happened to be on the ticket." Whatever. A vote's a vote. My grandmother, on the other hand, called Obama a socialist twice before the gravy got cold.

After dinner, presents were opened, and the happy family watched The Bucket List. The Cleavers ain't got nothin' on us, let me tell ya.

Friday, four of us went to breakfast, and then my sister accompanied me when I stopped by to see my hairdresser. I started going to her when I was just a kid; my dad and brother still see her. She squeezed me in for a much-needed haircut. (I don't think there's anywhere in Mission to get a haircut. It sounds like, though, there are folks here who "do hair.")

After Sis and I walked the mall and Barnes and Noble, I was off to my grandmom's. She treated me to lunch at Booth's Corner, followed by tea, cookies, and Judge Judy at her place.

Saturday, I headed over to Jersey to see a long-time friend. After brunch (I had scrapple - yum), we people-watched at the Cherry Hill Mall. And then that night, the family went to a neighbor's Italian restaurant in Wilmington, where an unexpected family reunion took place. I hadn't seen my great aunt (who is also my godmother) in, I don't know, 20 years. She had told Mom she wanted to see me specifically the next time I was in town. I had had only one memory of being at her family's house when I was a kid. Whatever had come between my mother and grant aunt had evidently been reconciled. My surprise turned into a surprise for me.

I was up at 3:30 a.m. the next morning to head back to the airport. My trip was over and it had turned out even better than I could have hoped. My flights back to South Dakota were just as uneventful as those three days earlier. I was back in Mission by sunset, in bed before 9:00 p.m., and back to work the next morning, almost as if I had never been gone.

Almost.

The latest

Just some things worth mentioning:

• The wind was blowing harder this afternoon than it had since my arrival. It was blowing so hard the water inside the toilet was swishing back and forth. I'm still trying to figure out the physics behind that one.
• I'm growing my beard back. To keep my face warm in the cold South Dakota winter? No, I'm just too lazy to shave regularly. But it does look good, if I say so myself.
• Thanks to a certain someone's going-away gift of an Amazon gift card, I picked up a nifty headlamp for a mere 93 cents. I gave it a test drive after work tonight and it works like a dream. I would have stayed out longer but the headwind was brutal heading out the Dump Road (see bullet #1).
• On a related note, the view from the top of the rise this evening looking back at the lights of town was awesome. Open spaces rock.
• On another related note, having barking dogs chase me while running is a lot scarier at night compared to during the daytime. But I haven't come across any mountain lions... yet.
• I had a very productive day at work today. I got the go-ahead on the partner family story I wrote up for the grant competition. I submitted it this afternoon, so cross your fingers it gets picked for publication. A $10,000 grant would be oh-so-nice. I also finished up a letter of inquiry for another grant. I love tangible results. Now, if only the money would start flowing in...
• My Christmas trip was a smashing success. It's a story for another post (soon, I promise), but I will say I know I don't visit the family much when my own father doesn't recognize me.
• My 2009 running schedule is set: one marathon and four half marathons, all in South Dakota. I'm going to stick with a strict marathon training plan this time around, with days and projected mileage marked on a calendar already. I'm not sure if I can beat my 2006 time of 3:48:38 because it's a trail run with an elevation gain over the first half of the course; however, my goal is to finish this race not feeling like I want to die.

Getting in the holiday spirit... for once

After work on Christmas Eve, I made the 100-mile drive drive up to Pierre to catch a flight Christmas morning. Since I drive faster than I had remembered, I had more time to spend in Pierre than I had planned. Since I just love my government buildings, I walked over to the state capitol for a visit, where Christmas at the Capitol was in its final days. Organizations throughout the state sponsored and decorated trees, which were on display under the dome and along the main halls.

Now, I'm no fan of Christmas, but I have to say I really got into the spirit walking throughout the building. The smell of the trees (real trees, the only way to go) was evident upon entering. My favorite tree was decorated by the Oahe Episcopal Women, which was adorned with knitted caps for babies (representing warm babies' heads in Africa, I think). But the whole scene - the trees, the smell, the lights, the music, and the relative lack of crowds - really gave me a good feeling.

It didn't hurt matters either that all of this was in the capitol. There's just something about walking around the halls of government, footsteps echoing, I find enchanting. After looking at the trees, I made a visit to the House and Senate chambers, followed by more exploring. I'm hoping to make a return visit to see the Legislature in action. The session here is shorter than in Alaska; it is not to exceed 40 legislative days.

After my fun evening, I went back out into the windless cold and walked back to Chez Super 8 along the snowy sidewalks. Is it possible to label an evening's events as romantic if one is alone?

A simple wish

I'm off to Pierre tonight to catch an early flight tomorrow morning. My Christmas wish is for both of my tight flight connections to pan out. And I'd like a new pair of jeans. And world peace. That's all.

Merry Christmas everyone!

One month down

I've officially been an AmeriCorps VISTA member for exactly a month. So far, so good. Sandy and LaCosta have not held back their gratitude for my presence. I still sense a bit of concern from each of them in regards to me sticking around for the entire year. I don't think that has anything to do with me though; the last VISTA only lasted two months. But I continue to reiterate I love it here, which is the honest truth. Whenever LaCosta has introduced me, she tells folks I'll be here for a year and "hopefully longer than that." And Sandy has joked more than once he'd like me to take over the Executive Director role from him.

The job definitely has its challenges. Since I'm basically starting from scratch, I really need to take heart in the small breakthroughs over the coming year. I was told at PSO first-year VISTAs are laying a lot of the groundwork for future VISTAs. (FYI: When a site submits a proposal to host a VISTA, they submit a three-year plan.) I look at the 5K I'm trying to get off the ground, for example. My goal, of course, is to have that become an annual event. I've read first-year races like the one I'm planning don't draw much of a crowd. And the fact I live in the middle of nowhere (not that I'm complaining, but it's true) doesn't help matters. But I am a runner, and I certainly know the difference between a poorly run and a well-run race. I'd prefer the latter.

I do have projects on my plate with tangible results, which I need. It's nice to be able to point to something and say, "I did this." On Friday, I created a volunteer database, complete with hours worked and contact information. Most of it was data entry, but it felt good to have that completed by the end of the day. And I'm also working on a Habitat for Humanity International grant/competition, writing up a "compelling" partner story to appear in future mailings. The affiliate that has its story chosen gets $10,000 in unrestricted funds. And do I have a great story (sorry, no details)! The family's mother is stopping by tomorrow to give me more details about their current living situation, and she really wants this to turn out well for our affiliate.

Besides the job, I've really settled into a grove living in Mission. This is the first weekend since arriving that I haven't traveled. There really isn't much to do in town; plus, a reinforcing blast of cold weather arrived Friday night, so I've stayed inside most of the weekend. I did get bundled up yesterday to walk to the grocery store, but quickly turned around when I realized the wind wouldn't let me keep my eyes open. I did get antsy today and made the walk. It wasn't as cold or windy today, but my face was a nice shade of pink upon returning home. (It's 15 minutes into town to the grocery store, one way.)

Speaking of the cold, the heat has not returned 100 percent to the building. We had some pipes leading to the baseboard heating units burst during last weekend's cold weather. The pipes have been repaired, but the heat isn't fully functioning yet. I've had a space heater in my room all week, so I try to stay confined to my womb of warmth. That is, until I hear water flowing and race downstairs to check the pipes.

It's no coincidence I've been getting a ton of reading done. Folks know I'm an avid reader, but I've picked up the pace. I guess a lack of TV and heat will do that. I've made a considerable dent in the pile of books I bought in Chicago during PSO.

In other news, I registered to take the GRE in March. I'll have to go to Rapid for that because I live at least three hours from the nearest testing site. Grad school still looks like my plan post-VISTA. And the most probable option is the MPA program at the University of South Dakota. But we'll see. I have a couple (well, more than a couple) options brewing in my head right now. It's nice having choices, I must say.

So, there's the latest from me in Mission, South Dakota. I've inadvertently been blogging about non-VISTA nonsense (e.g. last night's dream), probably since things have been going so well for me here. I'll leave you with a photo of my co-workers. This photo will appear in our upcoming newsletter:

From left to right: Yours truly, Eric (the construction manager), Sandy, and LaCosta.

Fist Bumps in the City

I don't know if it's the wind blowing outside or the wacky dreams I'm having tonight, but I can't stay asleep.

In my dream, I first passed unnoticed through a scene in Sex and the City. All four of the main characters were there when Trey made a surprise, and unwanted, appearance. He was escorted away by an unknown man. This transitioned into my staying at some hotel, needing to take Jasmine, our family's dachshund that passed away last year, outside to go to the bathroom. We made it to the elevator doors (we were on the eighth floor), and when they opened, there was an unattended baby in one of those carrier things on the floor. Just as the doors were about to close, the baby's parents arrived. They fetched their baby and decided to take the stairs instead, but not before I scolded them for leaving the baby. The doors then closed and Jasmine and I were on our way.

The elevator moved so slowly. The weirdest thing of all was during the ride down, I was giving fist bumps to Jasmine. Why I was giving fist bumps to a dachshund, that's beyond comprehension. The elevator doors finally opened to the ground level, a combination lobby and restaurant. Jasmine, really having to go to the bathroom now, ran out immediately. She raced past a former co-worker sitting at one of the tables, and then by a waiter delivering something to another table, knocking him and whatever was on his tray onto the floor. The last thing I remember is Jasmine changing direction a couple times, not being able to find a door outside.

Fist bumps with a dachshund. That's a new one.

Being John Malkovich

Sometimes when catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror, I see my father. It's mostly the facial expressions. I've been told I look like my grandmother, and she thinks I look her son, my uncle. But there's a certain resemblance several folks have seen over the years which recently surfaced. I remind people of John Malkovich.

I don't think I look like anyone famous, and it's certainly not everyday I hear the sentiment from others. But when I have, the same name has been uttered. When I first heard the remark a decade ago, I told my mother about it. She was taken aback. If I remember correctly, she said he was creepy.

What's most fascinating is the diverse people and under the disparate circumstances I've heard it. A co-worker in Delaware. A friend in Juneau. And, just last month, a fellow VISTA in Chicago. Her explanation was the most thorough: My mannerisms, my speech, the way I look, all reminded her of Malkovich. "Not that that's a bad thing," she concluded.

I'm still not so sure. Before leaving Juneau, I saw Burn After Reading, a movie I really enjoyed. (My two companions had their own opinions.) My mind did wander a bit as I watched Malkovich, trying to pick up any hint of familiarity. I don't know. Maybe?