#empty nesting

It’s an odd post title. I know but it about sums up my life over the last year. I want to thank those who have reached out about A Flare of Fire, the third book in The Warwick Witches Series. I just wrote several pages and I am starting to feel like myself again. I suppose I should back up and explain about what’s been going on with me over the last year. Buckle in, dear readers. I am…

In 1968, Hugh Heffner opened The Playboy Club in Lake Geneva, Wisconsin. The decadent resort featured a restaurant where waitresses donned Playboy Bunny costumes and served the mid-west’s most sophisticated tourists, Hollywood’s elite, close cronies of the Playboy empire, and …. me. In what can only be attributed to 1970s parenting, my Uncle Joe took my family to lunch at The Playboy Club in…

Empty Nesting - Music Free Static (029)

My wife and I are at that time in our lives when we're re-relearning how to live without kids. Our younger kids have all been away at college and we've been on our own. It's surprising what's changed in our lives.

Quick and Easy Stuffed Peppers

First up as I venture into the foodverse is a recipe for stuffed bell peppers. It’s not a dish that’s all that common on our family menu. But it always receives rave reviews when served. It’s fairly simple to put together and so colorful. I’d love to say I used peppers from our garden in making this recipe, but ours are not ripe yet. The game changer I discovered in this recipe from Bellyfull.net…

The topic is: what was the best part of our vacation?

Of course there's no answer to that question because it wasn't that kind of vacation. We didn't do a bunch of rides to compare. We didn't see a bunch of shows amongst which there was a clear winner. We didn't indulge epic experiences like hot-air ballooning or white water rafting or riding in a helicopter over The Grand Canyon.

We basically showed up. Walked through a series of photo ops. And had most excellent food and drink.

But if I had to say...

If I had to say...

I'd say the best thing is simply the life we indulged in Vegas. A life in which there is no morning alarm clock. There is no start of the work day waiting impatiently on us. There is no rush to get ready. And lounging in bed in the morning has no expiration date.

We get 8-10 hours of sleep or more every night.

We hit our steps every day. I think Kimmer topped out at 22,000 or more.

There's sun from dawn to dusk every single day.

Seriously.

Every single day.

And you can actually feel the warmth.

Even as you're sitting by the fountain. Which we did.

We eat out for dinner every day. We try different wines every day. We meet new people every day.

We have time to think. And we have time to consider.

And this:

Because we have no agenda, because there is no schedule to keep, time runs slower here. Just as it does on Maui where it runs more slowly for lack of agenda and schedule to keep.

And that's.

What I liked best about our vacation.

We closed out our time in Las Vegas with a hodgepodge of conversations with strangers.

For a while, believe it or not, we were talking NBA, NHL, and NFL with an enthusiastic local. We talked finals, Probowl, and Superbowl. We talked about that NHL skills competition show in front of the Bellagio amidst the fountains. We talked about the NFL skills competition show that included a wicked game of dodge ball. We talked local concerts, one over the weekend in Vegas at the T-Mobile Arena, and one coming up next weekend in L.A. 'cause the girlfriend bought tickets and really wants to go.

Earlier in the day we're talking with a bartender about the awesomeness of BBQ nachos.

Seriously. They are THE best.

And we couldn't stop talking about it.

A little after we're talking to a young woman who actually wants to move to Seattle.

Huh?

We're like you know it's foggy and cold there now, right?

But it's the extremes here at the southern tip of Nevada, the sustained heat and the random rage of flooding, of which she's had enough.

She tells us about a road trip she indulged awhile ago.

Portland. To Vancouver.

To Seattle.

For whatever reason, in that order.

And Seattle just speaks to her.

So someday, you know?

Later we're talking mom stuff. Actually, Kimmer's talking mom stuff with a mom whose path we cross along the way. They talk about the wisdom of their mothers. They talk about the wisdom they tried and are trying to pass along. They talk about love and compassion and forgiveness and grace.

They talk about frustration. And pride.

Another moment, another person, and we're talking about the challenges and successes of adult children. But we're also talking about the challenges and failures of adult children. We're talking about depression. We're talking about suicide.

We're talking...

About suicide.

And its aftermath.

And how do you ever get passed it as a parent.

Seriously. How?

Another moment, another person, and it's about faith. And life. And persevering.

And so on.

In the end, it's a lot of pulse-taking, if you know what I mean. The sort of thing we do whenever we're on the road.

And while these conversations happen during our vacations, I don't regret them for a minute. Not a single one.

My time. Is not being wasted.

Because it's during these moments on the road that we become temporarily connected to other human beings. Instead of living life inside a bubble...

Of our own making.

Travel's a funny thing. It gives us opportunity and license to talk to strangers in ways that would otherwise seem awkward or intrusive. There's very much a different social convention at play being on the road.

For example we're at the airport when I pass someone who works there so I acknowledge him with "hey how you doing?" which is traditional social code for "Hi". As we pass each other, though, he actually answers the question and perpetuates it with "how's your day going today?" At which point I've gotta stop and back up a few steps 'cause we're almost out of sight of each other. He's stopped, too, and turned back toward me to see and hear me say "It's going pretty well so far. Thanks!"

And then we're on our ways again.

Not long after we're walking next to a people mover outside when Kimmer spots a man on that people mover carrying a bow in a case. She recognizes it immediately 'cause her cousin's huge into archery. So while the man's moving and Kimmer's walking, she strikes up a conversation with him about archery that continues to the end of the people mover.

Later in the day Kimmer's talking to a young woman who's been here a year.

And before that?

Sacramento.

Sacramento, where it cost too much for her to continue living there.

So they compare the cost of living between Seattle, Sacramento, and Las Vegas. They talk square footage. They talk inflation. They talk bang for buck.

Kimmer brings up one of our worst experiences at a hotel in Sacramento... so the conversation turns to hotels in Sacramento with the final recommendation of nothing but Hiltons and Holiday Inns. Maybe Best Western... but it depends on the neighborhood.

Toward the end of the day, I'm talking to a local I just met and, because stories of how people wind up working and living in Vegas are usually pretty interesting, I ask how long he's lived here.

"Six years," comes the reply.

"Wow. And where'd you live before that?"

"Yemen."

After soaking that in a moment, I ask the obvious question.

"Are you glad you came?"

"No."

You see, the story's that he came to the U.S. to make money for his family and then return home. A year into that endeavor, war breaks out in his home country and his country basically becomes a no-fly zone.

There is no way for him to go home anymore.

"It's a long swim," he says.

So he stayed in the states, became a citizen, and continues to send money home every two weeks.

We compared kids. He's got six, three boys, three girls, between 12 and 19. We've got just the one who's pursuing a career in the music industry. His eldest is pursuing a college degree in international business.

In the meantime, the war in his country has intensified. And he's here. And he's helpless. And his wife is a single mom with six kids. And his kids are growing up without him.

And he's working hard every day to send money home to his family.

And so on.

Travel is...

A funny thing.

It brings us closer to people we'll probably never see again. It momentarily connects us at the level of basic human beings.

And it definitely definitely definitely allows us to know the victories and challenges other people live...