The end, the beginning, the middle?

I feel that I am going to regret telling Cassie Lee that there is no amount of alcohol that could get me to take to a karaoke microphone.

We were ending a night of excess that had begun with a pre-game drink for walking around Roanoke, Ind., before a fabulous dinner at Joseph Decuis, Indiana's Farm-to-Fork destination. A gift card to the restaurant was part of the Captain's going away gift package from his office. Roanoke is a great example of what a family with means and commitment can do to revive a small town, reinvent it and still keep a feeling of small-town charm. 

Josh and Cassie have been talking up the place for years, and we finally got up there with them for an overnight. 

We all ordered the famous Wagyu beef, which won the table a fancy trophy. Josh and Cassie have always ordered the beef, so we're not sure why we got it. Nor could I tell you what was so amusing about having it. But we clearly had a good time with it. It might have had something to do with the fancy cocktails, and the fact that the bartender gifted us with the rest of a bottle of wine that I'd been ordering by the glass.

It was worth the drive just to see Cassie belt out "Simply the Best" to her husband a few hours after we stumbled out of the restaurant and into a local bar called "Trubble." My video file was too large to attach here, but trust me: it was worth the drive.

Spring 2023 marks the beginning of a new chapter for the Captain, whose retirement was heralded with three job offers. He's pretty sure he wants to give up working altogether, but small projects here and there might be good for the both of us - and our never-ending home improvement needs.

So far the send-off has won him a counter full of high-end booze and tons of well wishes with more to come. It'll be a fun few months as we're hoping to have an actual party - combo with Ali's college graduation fest - in the summer when my yard may be closer to level. It's still got a small mountain running across it from the sewer pipe project, smaller thanks to a weekend of yard work, but still an eyesore.

We had a small kerfluffle with the water company, so we have yet to help the mountain sink back down semi-naturally from whence it came. But that's coming. I'd love to smash it down with a heavy roller, but that could damage the pipe, or so I'm advised. 

But one day, one day soon, the yard will be flat again and I will have real grass and a party where I will no doubt scream at people to stay off said grass.

Alison graduates from Purdue University in May and will move to the University of Central Florida in Orlando where she will continue research chemistry work that could help keep the planet going a bit longer. Seriously. She's part of the global solution. 

I can't credibly explain how, but there are, uh, chemicals, involved. And test tubes and beakers. And lots and lots of  patience.

We're super proud of her. And not just for being a well-intentioned brainiac. Her choice of graduate programs gives us an excellent reason to winter in good weather. Politically speaking, I can't stomach Florida. But I do like warm weather, especially in February. When I told Auntie Jen about the decision, she said, "How close to her can we move?"

So we clearly have a plan. I mean, Jeff won't be working (likely) when she starts school, and I can work from anywhere, right? I was initially a bit unhappy that Alison's graduate school program is a 5-year deal. Now, I'm thinking she might need to do a bit more research.

So, plan your 2024 winter around us and the house I hope will include at least a couple spare bedrooms, a pool and a hot tub.

In other news, we had a lovely Easter celebration at Donna and Jim's house where everyone we know stopped by for a while. I was busy catching up with Deb, Diane, Howard, Lori and Allyssa and missed the egg hunt, which saddened me because it's always a hoot to see how the little kids overcome the bigger kids hiding efforts.

Ali and Becca showed off some of their more flamboyant cos-play outfits and offered to let me wear a hat Becca had made. Little Brinlea whispered to Nancy Bradbury that she bet I had hidden an egg in that hat because someone (I blame Annie or Jaime) had duct-taped an egg to the back of my shirt last year.

Sadly, I never got out there to wear the hat and hide the egg, though I had planned to. 

Next year.