twodoebs

John was the commander of his flotilla.  Duly impressive.

Am I SURPRISED that I agreed to participate in crawling around on the field between innings in a tug-of-war? . . . yeah, I guess I am--not really sure what I was thinking about.  Billy said we were doing it for our loved ones.  I'm not sure I agree with that 'cause I'm pretty sure Kati wouldn't have cared one way or the other.

That's Big Mo.  We think he looks as if he has male genitalia on his face.

Yes, it's true . . . we're beautiful.  So is minor league baseball.  I don't even like MLB anymore--I'm ALL about the Cyclones and the Biscuits!

Hannah didn't even seem to MIND that JR didn't feed her dinner!

Man!--did we ever have a good time. These guys (and gals!) were the MOST hospitable we could EVER ask for. When the airlines lost our gear bag, they responded with enough loaned gear for six people to dive! When we got out of the water, they had hot dogs waiting for us . . . SO nice.

As for the dives, they were very cool. We made two dives over the old bridge. The bridge wreckage on the first dive was very scattered, but it made for a good habitat for fish and we saw a nice sized catfish and many, many bass (large mouthed and striped). A "fresh watter jellyfish" (whatever THAT is) was also spotted, although neither of US saw it (we chose not to tell Emma and Isabel about that for fear that they would never get in the lake again!).

John came out and captained us on a boat dive (many thanks, John!) of the OTHER side of the bridge for our second dive. That side of the bridge was pretty much all in tact and VERY cool. At one point, we got separated from our guide, and all we had to do was stroll down the road bed and make our way right back to the boat. We also found some ANCIENT beer cans, which was VERY fun--our first artifacts!

We have a couple more pictures, which will follow whenever we get them off the digital camera.

I hate to fly.
I really do.
But an occasional contented feeling is something I can't deny.

When I'm flying home.
In a cabin that's been darkened for a night flight.
Jet black out of my side of the plane and a brilliant sunset out of the other side.

Tired from a trip.
Eyes heavy from too much sun.
Nothing but time to think about the memories I've made.

My wife sitting next to me.
I can count on her through anything.
It's so fulfilling to just sit here with my arm around her or hold her hand.

The plane smells like baby wipes.
Sentimental songs from my iPod fill my ears.
I've felt this way on a flight before.

Photos still on the digital camera from this trip lead right into pictures from the last trip.
And then the trip before that.
And the Christmas before that.
(I should free up some space on that memory card--or should I?)

I think about what a great family I have.
Y'all make me laugh.
I've got great friends, too.

It doesn't hurt to know that I'm going back to a job I love.
A foundation for my career and a chance to serve the poorest people in the greatist city on Earth.
I've already checked my voicemail, so I know what to expect tomorrow.

Now the moon is rising out of the window on my side of the plane.
Over some random city.
I wonder if anybody down there is as happy as me.

So maybe I shouldn't hate to fly so much.
I guess it's not so bad.
I just wish they wouldn't lose my fucking bags all the time.