Run Fox Run

As best said in the proverbial Jewish grandmother accent, the title states that we’ve been remiss in updating our familial Web 2.0 “status”.  No more! Clear out the backblog™ and move forward. Christmas/Hanukkah were spent bathed in warmth and sunshine on the western coast of Mexico. Zihuatanejo to be specific. Other than being the terminus of Andy and Red’s exodus from Shawshank, we knew precious little about the town and its possibilities. It’s most redeeming quality at the outset was that is had a direct flight from Denver (for my sister) and that it wasn’t the most popular destination in Mexico. 

Turns out Zihuatanejo is not too bad at all. 80+ degree weather in December and lots of sunshine did wonders for our tans. Hanging out with the grandparents and cousins during our stay made it all the more enjoyable. Typical day had us at the beach in the morning and swimming in the pool in the afternoon. Cocktails promptly at 5pm were followed by excellent Mexican cuisine prepared in a sweatbox kitchen by Papa. We visited a ton of local beaches and found that they all had warm sand, small waves, and an army of small restaurants that all shared the same menu (quesadillas and pescadillas abound, oh and guacamole by the gallon). Special trips to the locals’ beaches and the central mercado gave us an idea of how life works in town. 

What isn’t included in the above encapsulation is the time spent enjoying a family reunion and seeing the cousins get to color, romp, swim, pal around, and laugh with each other. No matter what the locale, that’s always the best part of the trip. We eagerly look forward to our next intersection with Grandma and Papa (March) and the Crawfords (June). 

Way too many pictures from this vacation can be found in the two Zihua albums [#1 and #2].

Today Big Brown is racing in the Haskell at Monmouth Park, so there’s a big crowd to see the Derby/Preakness winner and his peers competing.  But the REAL race fans were there Thursday to see lesser-known ponies take a spin ’round the track.  Leda shared Uncle Gary’s affection for the grays, but her most powerful preference was for the horse/jockey combination wearing the most pink and/or purple.  Nevertheless she was the day’s big winner, picking two winners in six races.  Her selection methods at the paddock were even displayed on the track Jumbotron, as you can see in the Monmouth Park photo album.

Sicily, it turns out, has seen everything. Everything and everyone, from the ancient Greeks and Romans to the Islamic so-called “Moors” to the Normans. Everybody left their mark, architecturally at least, so in two weeks we saw a bit of everything. There’s a cathedral in Palermo that has literally seen it all — it was built as a mosque and has been added onto, remodeled, and “improved” by everybody since. The ancient sites at Segesta, Selinunte, Agrigento, and Villa Casales pretty much knocked our socks off.

Yep, we did the traveling with kids thing again, once again aided tremendously by our partners in crime, Lynn and George. They were more than willing to take a gelato break whenever we needed to recharge the girls between temples. Leda picked up enough conversational Italian to order her own snacks, and corrected Papa’s pronunciation. Cleo became even steadier on her feet, perfecting the gait necessary to cruise down the beach to leap into the onrushing surf Our homes were both well-appointed and well-situated for our explorations of the island, and we even managed to see Mount Etna!

Photos are in the two Sicily albums — start with Part I to see it all in chronological order.

At the end of a day at the Shore, there are rituals. If you’re Erica, you head to the end of the dock and throw bread to a lucky duck or two, and hope the swans don’t swoop in. If you’re Rocky, you follow Erica because she has food. If you’re Leda and Cleo, you’re still savoring the taste of the crumb buns you had for dessert after dinner, tired from the sun on the beach and the wind in your face on the boat ride, and you follow Erica because she’s Erica. If you’re Toby, you’re cleaning the grill and kibitzing with Ray and Pat. If you’re the Raybird, you’re gazing out at the island looking for osprey. If you’re Jenn, you have internalized your mother-in-law’s guidance about the light at this time of day, so you rush to the end of the neighbors’ dock with your camera.

And the light wasn’t bad before dinner, either.

Time once again for the annual pilgrimage(s) to Newark’s Branch Brook Park.  For the few weeks each April when the cherry blossoms are in bloom, this park is fantastically photogenic.  A great spot to picnic, stroll, or just sit and marvel.  This year we were delighted to have Grandma and Papa with us for the fun.  Many more shots in the April 2008 album.