Hangin' With the Monicos

My mother hosted the latest installment of the semiannual traveling show known as the Monico Family Reunion this past week. The time flew by too fast, but in four short days, Sam and Henry got to meet a healthy helping of distant relatives, most of them from the West Coast Monico Clan. (There just aren't enough of us East Coast Monicos, I guess.)

It's hard to get a good turnout to any reunion other than the rare gatherings held in our homeland of Minnesota. The last time one of those rolled around was 2002, but maybe we can pressure the Midwest Monicos to step up their game next time. Even so, we had about 20 Monicos at this reunion, and my mom was a great host, throwing open the doors to her new compound in the woods, where spaghetti was enjoyed by all.

Sadly, my grandpa was the only member of The Twelve to attend. He's one of only four of the original 12 still with us, though I can still remember the "old days," circa 1985 reunion, when we had a full dozen attending. I can't really remember their faces or even all their names, but I remember the feeling of being in the presence of the full family, despite being only 8 years old.

Even with fewer faces and fewer names, it is heartening to be in the presence of family. Here's hoping we'll have many more opportunities.

Here is a link to photos, including many from Sam's birthday: PHOTOS
Liz will write soon about the big 2nd birthday.

Day 2: Hello, Wisconsin!

The road trip was even better than we thought. Both days, we got in before dinner. In this case, dinner was at the Putnam household in Platteville, Wis.

Sam - who had had just about enough of that stupid car - was excited to see Grandma and Grandpa and play with their new vacuum cleaner. And by vacuum cleaner, I mean a Fisher-Price deal that makes realistic whirring sounds.

We also ran around the yard a few times, and Sam met his first cricket. When you wish upon a star …

Day 1: Somewhere on the Ohio Turnpike

It's day one of the Great Paulsen Midwest Road Trip 2010. Not a lot to say, other than New Jersey, Pennsylvania and Ohio. We set up camp in a Super 8 just south of Sandusky, about halfway to Platteville. Just under 500 miles left to go. Sam has been handling it well, but he clearly suffers from vertical activity deprivation. The kid has grown fond of running around, and you can't do that well in a car.

As for the car, it's a Toyota Prius, a two-week rental that cost us less than the price of two plane tickets, not to mention all the baggage we're taking. And with two weeks to burn, it's nice having our own four wheels.

And I still can't believe I have a full two weeks off. This is my longest stretch without working since college. Not sure how I'm gonna feel by the end. Hopefully, I'll keep the thoughts of work to a minimum.

Coming up: we're looking forward to seeing Grandma and Grandpa Putnam, Great-Grandma Putnam, Great-Aunt Sue, Great-Aunt Suzie, the Wangs of Wausau, the Uhligs of Wausau, the Caseys of Reedsburg and some of the Twin Cities crew, including Joy, Jason and Rodney. Good times ahead.

Sam's Little Brother

Grandma Monico, 1927 - 2010

Sad to report Grandma died yesterday, and we're heading up to the Berkshires for the funeral. This photo is quintessential Grandma Monico, smiling, surrounded by light, and ready to head out into the great outdoors, in this case the ski hill at Mount Greylock, circa 1993.

Holiday at the Monico House

My grandparents, after nearly 30 years living up the hill in Windsor, Mass., finally decided to move down into the valley, to a two-bedroom apartment in a senior complex in Lenox.

The official move isn't for another week, but for the Memorial Day holiday my mother's brother and sister were visiting, a rare occasion to get three of the four Monico siblings together. We drove up from New Haven and had lunch with them.

Maybe someday we'll be able to coordinate a visit with the fourth sibling, Pete. Until then, this photo will have to suffice: Me, Liz (with Chick), Mom, Grandma, Jeff, Grandpa and Laurie. Oh, and Mom's dog, Jetta.

California Dreaming

Egads! We haven't blogged since arriving in California. I guess that old laid-back SoCal spirit has seeped into our souls. Whoa, dude!

No surfing yet, though I am typing this from a hotel room with a view of the surf next to the Santa Monica pier — or the end of the world, as I affectionately like to call it. I went to college a half hour east on I-10 and even worked here in Santa Monica during my last semester in California, at the Barnes & Noble on the Third Street Promenade. Coming back here I realize how little I appreciated how good I had it. Or rather, how good I could have had it if I wasn't working a $6-an-hour job, catching a bus home at 11 p.m. and wasting all my spare time studying for classes.

Returning to stroll the boardwalk and the beach and sip giant margaritas with Liz is a much better approach to Los Angeles living.

But more on all that to come. I must first get in a mention of our trip to Vista, Calif., just north of San Diego. My aunt and uncle and cousin and cousin-in-law were extremely gracious in putting us up for the night, taking us to what must be the best steakhouse in Southern California, showing us the local beach, showing us their pet rattlesnake (gasp! We decided not to tell about the rattlesnake we ate a day earlier.) and filling us in on the old Paulsen gossip. Now that we have picture-posting capabilities (go back and see the old blog entries updated) here's a picture with, from left, Aunt Liz, Victor, Liz, Uncle Richard and Estay. And yes, that's wine in Liz's hand.