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This one is about the words.   I hoard dictionaries of all different sorts and dip into them daily. This comes from an old Merriam Webster with wonderful recessed letterbits to find words more easily - also beautiful engravings of stuff. Time is one of those things that (like most of you probably) I muse on routinely. The little bit of paper at the bottom isn't fully attached so you can go under in a timeless kind of way.

My daughter is pregnant with her third child and isn't drinking any alcoholic beverage at all. One night my son-in-law brought home a non-alcoholic wine and April quite likes it. While we were sipping wine, she enjoyed her Ariel. I accidently poured myself a glass, thinking it was regular wine, and it wasn't until three or four sips that I realized I was drinking grape juice. It isn't awful, but it is quite sweet. I think it would be so much better with a bit of sparkling lemonade and some added fruit, and the next time I go up there, I'm going to have that idea perfected and make a whole pitcher.

Last Saturday night my eldest daughter and her husband were at a party and I was with my two grandkids, along with my younger daughter, her husband and Greg. I decide to make one of my favorite summer beverage, which involves fresh squeezed grapefruit. My three and half year old granddaughter asked me what I was doing with the grapefruit and I asked her if she wanted to taste the juice. She is super fussy and I really didn't think she would say yes, but she did, and then asked for more. Surprised the hell out of me. I vowed to buy all the citrus I could find at the grocery store the next day and spend a few hours juicing it.

The next morning my granddaughter asked my daughter, who had no idea what transpired the night before with the grapefruit,  for some "Grammy Juice." My daughter, noticing the four glasses drying on the dish rack, and the tequila bottle nearby, experienced a brief moment of confusion. It was a very brief moment, and more light-hearted than it might seem, especially when she discovered that it was grapefruit juice, of all things, that Savannah wanted. I did leave the juicer up there and I'm sure that with some help, Savvy will be squeezing citrus all summer long.

"They" say our children often pick the exact opposite path as we parents would pick for them. I always thought my daughters would work in social sciences, but both are accountants, and quite happy in their professions. Their politics are considerably more conservative than mine (in the US, "conservative" and "liberal" have different meanings than in other parts of the world). I can't help but wonder if my granddaughter will be the flower child, like the girl in the postcard above.

We had airline tickets for the trip to Massachusetts last week, but with all the stupid security theatre, neither of us could "bare" to fly, so we decided to take a credit (minus a penalty fee) on the flight and rented a car (our car is charming and wonderful, but not up to this sort of journey ... it is almost 11 years old) and drive up to see my family for the weekend.

The drive to Massachusetts is about 10 hours. I don't get motion sickness so I had plenty of correspondence and mailart stuff to keep me busy for the entire ride. I cut up a map and covered some cardstock before we left so that was already for me to add the bits I collected in my traveling mailart kit (which I will post about on the IUOMA at some point) for some road mailart.

Pennsylvania is a big state. You don't know how big until you have to drive the width. And the middle of northern Pennsylvania is a wilderness ... there is a section that is actually called The Wilds. I was quite happy I had my Apple iPhone, with my wonderful address book and all my 8082 contacts so that I had all my addresses in the palm of my hand. I wrote about 30 letters and left a trail of mail via mailboxes along the route.