two weeks ago, David and i spent the weekend in Philadelphia.
for more pics, see Flickr.

        

i don't seem them that often, i don't know them that well, and we don't really ever stop to have a conversation... it's more just a passing "hello, how are you." like last night, at the store.

but every single time, this kind person, who i respect, greets me as "Stacy."

i've been wrestling with the age-old question for a long time... do i tell them?!

sheesh. why'd they have to go and make things so complicated?

so, i named my blender Harry Potter.

underneath the shiny silver buttons are words like, "Blend! Crush! Liquefy!"
and it always makes me think of Hogwarts students and Dumbledore's Army and their spells.

yes, i am a nerd.

{thanks to Aunt Jean and Elisey and Uncle Chris and Janelley and Emmy for Harry Potter.
you'll have to come over for smoothies soon.}

9 kids.
1 toddler saying, "ni' ev'buddy. lov' you a'pieces."
2 parents.
1 husband.
1 deck.
15 glowsticks.
20+ entries in Mom's "who can make what out of a glowstick" contest.
2 versions of "This Little Light of Mine" with Happy Hands Club motions.
1 guitarist (Libby).
who knows how many stars.

the brand new Goodlings and David and i went on an excursion to the Motherland, IKEA.

the Motherland, you ask? did i ever mention i was Swedish? i am.

here, i chronicle in colored pictures, our Trip.

Ruth expressed some misgivings about traveling in the car with David and i for such a long time.
i think she might have been worse for the wear after the hour-long ride.


we made our way across the desolate parking lot, into IKEA's arms.


and there, in all their Swedish splendor, were the first of the family heirlooms.
(Ruth and David turned down a modeling deal within the first five minutes.
something about time limitations and a bad hair day. but i digress.)


being in a overtly public place did not discourage the brand new Goodlings' scandalous behavior.


meanwhile, David was thrilled to find that he had made the cut to enter the homeland.


and then we saw them. two little English words, spelling out a cryptic message.


from then on, it was Swedish, everywhere you turned. and it's not like there were jolly Swedish translators waiting to happily attend you. all of a sudden, the Motherland felt foreign. luckily, my Swedish roots came back to me (as well as my Eagle Powers) and was able to understand every word.


i got a little upset when i saw the atrocity of a chandelier they had imported.
but nothing could make me so unhappy as to not forgive the Motherland.


Alex and Ruth skipped through the flowery fields of furniture... then they saw the price tags.


Alex decided to take his anger and buyer's guilt out on a pair of built-in bookcases.
it took fifteen minutes to explain to him that they were bolted to the floor.


he didn't relent until Ruth threatened to bean him with her new star ice cube tray.
(i got one too. they make cute ice cubes by the way. score for the Motherland. but i digress.)


Alex turned dejectedly away, mumbling something in broken Swedish.


now i know what it was like at Ellis Island, all because of the faux wood floor they put down.


there weren't translators. but the floor supposedly told us where to go. unfortunately, David and i have trouble following arrows. thank heavens for the brand new Goodlings who were there to provide additional direction.


the place was full of Swedish delights. books to read, food to eat. i stopped reading out loud and then, embarrassed, began to stuff my face after Alex complained about my Swedish accent.
  

then we found it. the couch of our dreams. the Motherland had brought us home. or... we'll be bringing a piece of the Motherland into our home soon, anyway. David insisted on making sure it passed the quality and comfortability test. unfortunately, having matching ice cube trays with the Goodlings created some rivalry, and David sneered at Ruth and Alex throughout the rest of the evening.


clutching her star ice cube tray in her hands, Ruth finally gave her approval of the couch. that sealed it.
David half forgave her.


meanwhile, the Motherland guards shouted at me to stop taking photographs of the scenery and national artifacts.
i complied after snapping one or two more renegade shots.


we wound our way through the end of IKEA, trying to follow the arrows. weighed down by bookcases and picture frames, we left the Motherland behind and made our way back into the Outside World.


it was a moonlit night. and we were happy. full of family pride and Swedish vernacular, we parted ways and went home to fill our new ice cube trays. ja.