Where did the time go?

Laura, Owen and I are back from a week in South Carolina, during which time we greeted many offering condolences and remembered the great -- and funny and sometimes even odd -- things my dad did over the years.
This photo was taken at the cemetery after his funeral on Aug. 23, which would have been his 63rd birthday.
That's my sister Katie on the left. She was born when I was 13. Jennifer, whose face is visible above Owen's little round head, was born when I was 15. I spent a lot of time taking care of them way back then.
Nicole -- second from the right -- is the reason I only had my own room for the first 16 months of my life (at least until I went to college). And Courtney, on the far right, was born the summer before I went to college.
Wow, we've gotten old. Not old enough to lose our father, obviously -- is anyone ever old enough for that? -- but old enough to be able to laugh about all of those odd things.
Heath, Laurie, Daniel, Thomas, Amanda and Carolina can, too, of course. They just don't happen to be in this photo.

My father, 1947-2010

My dad passed away yesterday. It was somewhat unexpected in the sense that everything had been about the same for a while. Sure, there were health problems, but plenty of people live past 62 with much worse problems.
In between some tears and a sleepless night, I've been working on plans to fly "home" for the funeral. So sometime in the next few days you might see a post here about yet another international flight, although this one will have one fewer adult than the previous one. (Kevin won't be able to travel back with us.) There's also likely to be a post about Facebook and its ability to bring friends and families together in times of sorrow.
For some reason I've fixated on a conversation I had with my father in 1993. I was in college and was, for a variety of reasons, contemplating a move to a different apartment within the same complex. My parents weren't heavily involved in my decisions during that time -- they weren't supporting me financially and didn't really keep track of my day-to-day life -- but for some reason I was explaining the apartment situation to my dad and expecting him to be against the moving idea.
But he surprised me and said something to the effect of "Just do it!"
OK, I'm probably Nike-fying his words, but the concept was the same: Stop your bellyaching and do the thing you decided on.
I think that's a good lesson for all of us.
I was searching for decent photos, but I suspect I can't find them because they're prints and not electronic. But I did locate this one of him with my brothers, taken in March.May he rest in peace.

I know horses eat clover, but what about toddlers?

Pinacoteca di Brera

On Saturday we visited the Brera, which is one of Milan's main art museums. I never went there when I was in town on Study Abroad, and we didn't take any photos inside this time. (I'm not sure whether they're allowed.) But this is the palazzo's courtyard.
One of my favorite painters is Carlo Crivelli, and this is one of his works in the Brera.
The colors in his paintings are amazing, and the Triptych of Camerino is particularly interesting because the keys in the left panel are actual keys hanging off the painting.
Another of my favorites is Gentile Bellini's St. Mark Preaching in Alexandria.

So many great paintings, so little time (especially when a 14-month-old is accompanying you). We'll be going back many times, I'm sure.

Thank goodness those Swedes think ahead

I hate it when random things pop into my head and refuse to go away until I deal with them. Last night it occurred to me that although I’d turned on the headlights when I drove to the grocery store Thursday, I didn’t remember turning them off. And that’s a huge issue if you want to drive your car because of battery power and all.
So I went down to the garage – literally underneath our house, a very cave-like area – to check the status of the car’s battery. Yes, I’d forgotten to turn off the lights. But apparently they turned themselves off. Who knew? And yes, I’m sure there are other cars that do that, but our Jeep sure didn’t. In fact, when we bought it in 2007, there was a delay in driving it off the lot because some less-than-thinking dealership person had left the lights on and killed the battery, which had to be replaced so we could buy it and drive it home and all.
Recently when I had to locate our car’s instruction manual online, I was somewhat humored by all of Volvo’s notes that yes, their cars do have outstanding safety ratings, but those ratings are dependent upon people wearing their seatbelts. I always wear my seatbelt, but I’m glad they’re one step ahead of me and think to turn off the headlights when I don’t.

More dangers of having a big sister

Beware the GPS. Or Recalculating. Recalculating. Recalculating.

We'd talked for a few years about getting a GPS. It wouldn't have done us much good in Trinidad, though, due to the lack of satellite maps for the island. (At least while we were there. Perhaps that's different now.)
We finally got one, a Garmin, last summer after we returned to D.C. from home leave. There was a lot of research, at least on Kevin's part, and the choice of a specific model was made based on the inclusion of European maps.
So when we arrived in Milan at the end of June and Kevin went to Rome a week later to pick up the car we'd bought, the GPS got is first European workout. And thus we discovered a problem. The pesky thing couldn't figure out where it was for an extended period of time and would "recalculate" even if the car was on the route it had ordered in its irksome, strangely accented voice. This presented a problem if one was, for example, stopped at an intersection with a roundabout and needed to figure out which street to turn on out of said roundabout.
This wasn't its only problem, either. It would lose its signal, send us in strange loops, etc. And it drove us crazy.
So, the Garmin has been replaced by a TomTom. It's not quite as fancy a model as the Garmin -- it doesn't speak street names, just directions -- but at least so far, it's working better for us.
And lest someone argue with the change of brands, I'll mention I know multiple people have had opposite experiences. To each his/her own GPS, I guess.

48 hours in Rome. Actually, I guess it was 46.5.

Kevin had to go to the embassy in Rome for some meetings, so we tagged along. Yes, I felt bad that he didn't get to have fun with us. But someone has to support us in the manner to which we've become accustomed.
Laura really wanted to see the Colosseum, so that was our big accomplishment.

We also visited the Forum and Palantine Hill. Laura wasn't always happy during this stop, but I'm not going to post the photo of her looking angry. I wasn't too happy during this time either, in fact, because ancient stone streets/paths and umbrella stroller wheels really don't go well together. Just in case you were wondering ...
But we had a lot of fun overall, did a lot of walking and exploring, and managed to avoid dipping Owen into this fountain.

It was hot enough that I doubt he would have cared.
We weren't able to get close enough to the Trevi Fountain to do any dipping (or coin throwing), but it still was cool.

And I discovered that I have fans. Graffiti-producing fans. Or at least that there are graffiti-producing people who like to write my name, as this wasn't the only occurence.

Now the real fun can start

I know, I know, we're already having fun. But I finally found the Milan guidebook Kevin got me for Christmas in 2008. It was in our household effects from Port of Spain, and although I was sure I'd find it eventually, it hadn't been in any of the 8.7 billion boxes I'd already unpacked. So I finally decided to just start breaking open boxes it might be in, even if I wasn't ready to unpack them.
I'm a rebel like that.
And then I found it, innocently hanging out with various Italian books and random unsorted items from one of the bookcases in our last house. I think "Random Unsorted Items" would be a good name for a Foreign Service rock band.
So as I said, now the real fun can start. But not today, as I have to get ready for a trip to Rome. (OK, so it'll be real fun, it just won't involve the Milan guidebook.) Kevin has to go for work, so the rest of us are going to have fun. It's a tough life, but someone's got to live it.