Twenty-five hundred kids from a Reformed Church group arrived at the Y yesterday. Driving around grounds today was quite a treat. They mistake the roads for giant sidewalks and mosey along, oblivious to the giant 15 passenger van creeping at a snail's pace behind them.
Was in town Thursday night with friends and checked my phone messages. Mom had called earlier that afternoon. Dad, Sarah, Brother, and she had all been on vacation in Montana since the previous Friday, so I was surprised to hear from them. Mom's message was short and to the point: they were on their way to Estes. This was not part of the original itinerary.
When I returned the call, they'd been in town for about 30 minutes and more interested in showering than coming to Ed's Cantina with us. Luckily I had Friday off, and we hung out all day, doing what there is to do in Estes: wandering around downtown and going into the Park.
Last night after Mass--which was the most musically excruciating to date; horrible songs lead by horrible singers behind booming microphones--we went out to celebrate Mom's 50th birthday.