August 20, 2012

Oh, my good, glorious, paradise.  Have I told you about Lake Chelan?  I'm sure, I can't resist gushing about it to people when I get the chance.   Lake Chelan: eastern Washington state, composed of glacial runoff that is icy cold but so window clear you can see straight to the bottom in thirty feet of water.  Where we stay in Lake Chelan is spectacular. Heather's in-laws  own this place right on the lake which was recently renovated. It's a small grey shingled affair with a red door that kind of feels as though you stepped into Nantucket.  There's a big old dock with jet skis and a super nice boat out back - Dan, Heather's husband, ran a wakeboard school from this very dock for several summers both before and after his mission, and consequently has mad wakeboard skills.  It's really enjoyable to watch him do ridiculous things.  The house has a state-of-the-art kitchen and is perhaps exclusively furnished in aggressively tasteful antiques.  That are strangely not twee, actually, which you might expect.  The house is gorgeous, the wrap-around porch is spectacular, and the view of the lake and surrounding town is unbeatable.  

So basically, my life is perfect.  You should be incredibly jealous.  Here's how I've spent my evening - Heather and I went to a farmer's market, where we fed the goats (which are kind of freaking adorable, and that's not as weird as it sounds) and bought sugar cane root beer and blueberries, cherries, and peaches rather larger than my fist and hooooooly crap, they're amazing.  Then we grilled lemon garlic chicken and corn on the cob, ate said fantasticness, Hez and I watched So You Think You Can Dance, we all made peach cobbler together while listening to Tony Bennet and Frank Sinatra and Michael Buble, and then ate said peach cobbler (again, freaking tasty) and Heather and I went and sat in the hot tub and had a crazy long conversation about the mysteries of life.  

You don't care, and I don't care that you don't, you get to read how awesome life is anyway.  

That conversation with Heather was really grand, too, by the way.  Sometimes, I can be helpful in dispensing advice.  This pleases me on the rare occasions that it manages to happen.  Although, a disturbing amount of times tonight, I sounded like a swallowed a fortune cookie.  Or a really lame self-help book. Heather and I are strong where the other is not.  Heather is selfless and humble where I am selfish and conceited.  I am confident in my own worth and assured of who I am where Heather second-guesses herself.  It really is completely perfect that we're sisters.  I was thinking, too, about how amazing are the people that my siblings married - every last one of them.  I love that I have two new sisters and an older brother, all of whom I respect enormously and love, all in their own rights.  

Related on multiple fronts: Cara, Nate's wife and I were talking when I was in Baltimore the other week.  I simply adore Cara.  She is down-to-earth, unassuming, happy, and loving.  Oh, my gosh, I love her.  [Let's be honest, who'd expect any less awesome a spouse from my this-close-to-perfect brother.]  They got married in 2010, and the first time she met me was at high school graduation. I was saying something to Cara, last week, about how I felt like I had changed enormously since coming to college.  She agreed wholeheartedly, "Honestly, I feel like you're...practically a different person, at least from the one I remember.  You...I don't want to say you're a lot calmer, exactly....But you found out what you wanted to do, and I feel like that grounded you, and centered you.  It's obvious that you have far more of a sense of self, and of what you want and who you are."

I've been reading more in the last few days than I have in (quite possibly) years :)  Mmmm, glory.  I reread HP 7 on Thursday, read an entire book called Fated on the drive up, and have since read the first Stieg Larssen novel.  You have to have heard of Girl With The Dragon Tattoo.  There is absolutely no way that you're running around Scandanavia, even under cover of a white shirt and black tag, and escaped the pull of that one.  It's good.  Excellent, on a lot of fronts, including literarily (although I will never pretend to be a true judge.  Especially as Google informs me that I just made up literarily).  Graphic, though, definitely.  My brain was a bit mired in strange Swedish impassiveness after finishing it.  

"Fresh off the GRE test as you will be when you read this, I'm sure your superior brain powers will understand what I'm saying beyond my ability to write it. "

Ha.  Hahaha.  hahahahhahahahahhahahaha.  That's sweet.  My brain was essentially deep-fried for all the use I got out of it for the rest of that day.  

"You know, someday I'm going to end up with diabetes, and will be relying on your very successful brother to save my life, and you'll stop him from ending my suffering as retribution for all of the times I've mocked your sciencyness."

If I were feeling obnoxious, I'd inform you that my brother is studying Type 1 diabetes, which you are born with, whereas the type you can develop is Type II.