I can’t quite decide if I’m hiding or relaxing right now. There are six rambunctious kids downstairs between the ages of one and twelve. I can almost feel the quiet, puffy shelter of this bed shake with every dropped Tonka truck, shriek of excitement or screaming outraged wail from a sibling punch or a hurt feeling. I ventured downstairs to the kitchen for a few minutes an hour ago and know I’m going to have to go back to forage for food sometime soon.

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I am fed and familied. I tried to sneak back upstairs to the refuge of the orange, puffy Mont Bell sleeping bag but I was caught by three of the six while sneaking up the stairs. I outfitted two of them with our new headlamps and they’re running up and down the hall way yelling “WOO OHHHH WOOOO OHHH” possibly pretending to be police cars. They’re good kids. I like them alot but, my god, they are exhausting.

There are only two headlamps and five heads that want them. They’re swarming into my sanctuary each wanting permission to wear one. I said the magic words that made them disburse immediately and gallop down the stairs. “Go ask your mom”.

We’re leaving tonight at eight. Southwest has kindly given us four free drink coupons and I am really looking forward to using my half of them on the flight back.

We should be seeing the Sacramento faction of the family this summer since the PCT goes right by here. I’m looking forward to it. Usually we only get to see this crazy bunch once a year. I have many variations of animal poo on both pairs of my shoes, was bitten on the forearm hard enough to leave a bruise by a donkey and ate almost an entire bag of contraband, off my list, chocolates. I deem Christmas 2008 a wild success.