Richmond and Outer Banks

Marathons. Boy. I sure like them. Remember how after the Seattle Rock n' Roll, Heather suggested we come run Richmond with her and Rick? She didn't have to twist my arm too hard. With Grandma and Grandpa Kartchner on board to keep the kids alive while we were gone, Briton and I embarked on another training schedule.

And so it came to fruition. A few days before the race, we saw cool places suggested by our adept local guide: for example, the Confederacy White House, Hollywood Cemetery ("she always said her feet were killing her but nobody believed her"), stained-glass glass store, beautiful fall leaves along the James River, and the Poe Museum (stinky). Nothing beats a civil war site - Petersburg was no exception. The Blandford Church -- the Tiffany windows were nearly outshone by the charismatic, yet supersitious docent giving the tour who was convinced the church was haunted. And I'm sure the grammar in that last sentence is atrocious.

Then the race. This was our only shot:

Waiting for the starting gun. It was very cold.
What happens if one of the party has to use the potty, I ask you???

"How was your race?" people ask. How does one answer that question? So much happens. And so little ("I ran for a long, long time"). There's something about that marathon distance that I just really, really like. Like, crossing the finish line, p'haps.

Moving on.

Recovering from the race provided ample excuse to do nothing the rest of our time there. I was really excited to see Heather and Rick's beach house in the Outer Banks. Wish I had photos of the interior for you. Very beautifully decor'ed.

We lazed around. I mean, "recovered", from the race. This included benign activities like finishing The Help on a deck swing overlooking the Sound while the warm sun shone on my face and the blue sky reached to the eternities,

and catching tiny crabs,


making stained-glass stars ....

idea stolen from: http://www.etsy.com/shop/kurtknudsen

Heather, who has created several amazing (I had no idea 'til I saw them in person), Tiffany-worthy creations, suggested we make some while we were in the OBX. So we (she) did! There it is, up there, used as a curtain tie-back in our family room. I really like how they turned out. Heather also whipped together a 3-D starish contraption that we will use for our Christmas Tree star. Thanks, Hed.

Brit and I took in some OBX sites of ...


nothing ...
and shadows ...
and rekindled our steamy romance ...

and shuffled for our lives from mosquitoes the size of golf-balls, all swarming and amassed around this lighthouse and nowhere else on the OBX:

Oh. And hobbled, stiff-legged, around Ye Historic Landmark. Cameron! We should have taken your National Parks passport and gotten a stamp for you!


As you know, walking hurts the day after a marathon. Walking down stairs KILLS for a few days. I dared Briton to run down this sand dune. It was hilarious:



Ow. That hurts.

We'd call home every now and then and hear the chaos in the background and just smile up at that warm sun in that blue sky. I jest, though. The kids got to have quality time with their grandparents who they don't get to see very often. Grandma read Mother Goose until she wished she'd never brought the book; she tutored Talmage with his school work and piano as only an expert educator can ("It's fun!"); gave Sydney endless attention; and got to know Clara. Grandpa played his part, too: with a steering wheel in one hand and a power tool in the other. Besides chauffeuring kids around, he whipped this house into shape with all manner of projects. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for making Richmond possible; and Heather and Rick, for your pre-eminent hosting (including all things related to The Cat).