Indiana Beach trip photos

Emily and I took the grand-twins to Indiana Beach, a local amusement park ... and by local I mean it was a two hour drive there and two hours back, with eight hours in between. Long day.

It rained much of the day, but the park was still fairly well attended, and with the exception of the big rides just about everything stayed open the whole time. When the temperature hits 80, a light rain isn't so very terrible.

Indiana Beach is, as the name implies, on the edge of a body of water: Lake Shafer, a ten mile long lake formed by a dam near Monticello. It's also the model I used in creating a fictional park for my unpublished YA mystery, "Red Is For Ick". If you're a publisher ... call me.

The twins have issues with heights, but that's okay: Their favorite rides were the bumper cars and the bumper boats. It makes me a little nervous to realize in five years they'll be driving real cars. (Emily has photos of me on those two rides. Hopefully she doesn't have any of how green I looked after coming off the Scrambler.)

One of Indiana Beach's first rides was the Grand Carousel, which I thought was pretty neat until Emily pointed out that all the horses look terrified.

I didn't get many good photos, as I forgot my regular camera and it was a bit gloomy (and rainy) for cell phone photos. Still, this one of the Schafer Queen, which takes half hour rides up and down the lake, came out okay.

The upper deck of the Schafer Queen was unoccupied due to a light rain, but Hunter and I chanced it while Emily and Brayden stayed on the sheltered lower deck.

Hunter was fascinated by the paddlewheel, while I listened to the Captain telling us stories about the park and the lake--he pointed out a home previously occupied by Al Capone.

Grand-twins!

A couple of weeks ago I posted three month old photos of my six-month-old granddaughter, because getting a post ready and actually posting it are two different things. It's only right that I do the same with the grand-twins. In other words, in a case of epic fail, this post has been in my draft folder for almost four months. These are also from my dad's 80th birthday party, which took place when people were praying for summer:

Brayden debates politics, or possibly football. Probably football.

"I was promised fudge. Where's the fudge?"

If there's one thing I've learned, it's that when you get a dozen kids in a room, they make three dozen kids worth of noise.

You can't get blood from a turnip, but they got a whole bag full from me

We're going on vacation soon, and so won't be online all that much for a few weeks. But, between fun things like reading, being outside, and reading outside, I'll continue that writing related stuff. You should hear about future projects by the end of summer, if all goes well. 


My oldest daughter approached me with a simple request: Her twins were being asked to bring someone to their school to donate blood. You want to do something for your grandkids. After all, they're your ... wait for it ...

Blood relatives.

Blood relatives! Hey, the dog thought it was funny.

There was a short period of time, a few nanoseconds, in which my mind wound up to deliver a powerful, definitive, final, "hell no". Scream it. I've always had an issue with needles, which abated some over the years as I got used to allergy shots and annual blood draws. But the needle they use for an allergy shot is like, say, a BB Gun. My brother shot me with a BB gun once; it left a welt on my cheek (no, not that cheek), close enough that it could have put an eye out, but otherwise harmless.

The needle they use for blood donations is closer to Dirty Harry size.

"Go ahead: Open a vein."

But in the short amount of time I spent winding up to scream "No!" the way teenagers used to scream at the Beatles, I heard a voice. It said, "Sure, okay." It was squeaky and shaky, but it was me.

It's not the first time I ever spoke before I thought. There was the time I agreed to a BB gun fight with my brother, for instance.

Worse, it's notoriously hard to get a needle stick into my tiny veins. I suppose they shrivel in fear when they see the needle approach, just as I do. But I made a blood promise, literally, so I showed up to talk to the Red Cross people.

"Hey, you can't draw blood from people who are taking allergy and acid reflux medicine, can you?"

"Sure we can, no problem."

"Oh, right good. But what if professional nurses have actually taken early retirement because they couldn't find my veins?"

"Not to worry, we deal with that all the time."

"Yeah, but, if somebody faints ..."

"You'll be laying down, it's okay."

"Oh, cool. What if I ran for my life?"

"No problem, I was a defensive tackle in college."

Long story short, I sucked it up while getting my blood sucked out. The whole process only took about half an hour, of which twenty minutes was paperwork and ten actual sucking. The biggest shock to me is that they found my vein on the first stick; this is so remarkable I'm thinking of hiring them to do all my future blood draws, even the ones with the BB gun needles.

Smiling through my pain.

And no cost. Well, none to me: I had the good fortune of feeling a little lightheaded when it was all over, so I got three cans of juice and a bag of cookies out of the deal. I also got Red Cross blankets for the grand-kids, which is great, but I think it's their turn to give blood next time. I mean, they're almost ten.

Now that I've done it, I have to say, I understand people who make multiple blood donations. There's a certain satisfaction in giving when it's done, the idea that you've contributed in some small way.

Just the same, it would be nice if they could come up with some other extraction technique. Maybe something similar to squeezing it out, like from a sponge. Or collecting it from a BB gun wound.

Maybe I'll try that on my brother.

Happy 9th to the grand-twins

Emily and I helped celebrate Hunter and Brayden's 9th birthday Friday with a pool party, which is pretty much the only way to do an outdoor kid's birthday party in June.

That's Hunter on top and Brayden on the bottom, despite the fact that Brayden is taller (for the moment).

Did I mention the pool part?

When you're about to turn nine, opening presents is a group activity. There were adults there too, but our group activity was hamburgers and German potato salad.

It's always better with ... Batman.

 

Bonus video! If it works.

Emily and I gave them a telescope -- always good to keep your eyes on the stars.

Here comes the bride ...

My oldest daughter Charis is getting married this coming Saturday! You should see the twins in their little three year old tuxes. I mean, the twins are three, not the tuxes. I, on the other hand, tried on my dress uniform for the first time in a year -- and will be eating nothing for the next five days.
I'll likely be a bit sparse on the internet for the next week, but rest assured I will put some time into the writing biz along the way. By the way, Charis' fiancee gave a wedding gift to me (a dowry?): my furnace is now up and running thanks to him, and just in time.