It's been eight days since we landed in Kentucky and we've had one Thanksgiving dinner, one broken truck, and one visit to the Creation Museum.
Maybe someday we'll be adults and have reliable cars, but today is not that day.
What can you expect really of a truck that hasn't been driven in three years? Not much is what I say. It turns out that we've got a mouse-squatter on our hands. A mouse who likes to chew wires. So now, after much trial and error (like a runaway truck when the brakes went out as we tried to load it onto a trailer and Forrest's dad having the steepest driveway in the entire country that no tow-truck can climb), Bessie is waiting at a shop to be fixed (fingers and toes crossed!). It was actually a pretty dramatic story that evolved over two days and ended with a tow-truck winching itself up the hill.
We've spent the past week mostly hanging out with Forrest's younger brother Trevor, watching a lot of Harry Potter, and driving around his dad's truck.
We finally met our adorable niece who is already two. She now refers to Forrest as Uncle Cozy-Toes. That's what he gets for wearing wool socks, I guess. Not that I have anything against wool socks. I'm actually wearing a pair as we speak. And most other days.
In other news, American food really is as good as I remember it and much more abundant than I recalled. I'm a little bit overwhelmed at having more than three choices for dinner on any given night. I don't even have to ask for ice anymore, guys! If you ask for ice anywhere in Europe, you will get a.) strange looks and b.) exactly one ice cube. Unless you are extremely persistent (like my mother). Then you may end up with two or three.
We took a few family pictures last weekend with all of these weirdos.
It sure does feel great to be back.