It's that time again... time to pack up the motorhome one last time and head for home. No matter where we are, it's the least fun part of the trip to pack up, unhook the water and electric, and hook up the Jeep.
This morning, it's tougher because it means we're heading home.
It's a funny thing how I'm both sad to head home and somewhat happy about it. I look forward to sleeping in my own bed and having more room than our motorhome affords us. We bought in 2009, and we've outgrown it. IN cramped quarters, the closeness can sometimes be overwhelming and lead to grouchiness.
I'm not excited to return to the heat and humidity. I have loved the weather throughout most of the trip, once we got to Denver. I still miss the beautiful beaches and perfect weather in Michigan. And of course, going home means returning to work. Yuck.
The kids are excited to see and talk to their friends again. Henry's trying to put together a fantasy football team with some of his friends, and it will take less than 30 minutes for the girls next door to ask Ruth to come over to play once they see the motorhome parked in front of the house.
These trips always have their testy moments, either because we're waking the kids up too early (by their standards) to go somewhere, or somebody won't share, or somebody (Ruth) wants to spend all her time at the pool instead of going to a national park or museum, or because the satellite signal just won't work (guess who...). But the times when we all cram into a queen-sized bed to watch a movie at night or spend an afternoon on a beach, or get stuck on a road with bison all around our Jeep - those are the things we'll remember.
Well, Jeff's about to unplug the electric, so that's all for now.
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