There are no pictures for our stay in Atlanta. No pictures of the wonderful people who cared for Maria's father during and after his back surgery. There are no pictures of his remarkable recovery and progress. Also missed taking pictures of the time we enjoyed as a family. Perhaps it is fair to say that some times it was not fun, just very good to be together. So, missing all that, move on to the boat yard.
Bree was also a dancing girl and so we returned to the land of pink satin, pink gauze, and snarling at fabric. Funny how a skirt can transform a little girl into a whirling dervish and, unfortunately, a PRINCESS. When asked to help clean up the toys, Bree replied with the certainty of the royal, "NO, I'M A PRINCESS". Vinnie quickly assessed the situation and said, "Our work is done, it is time to leave."
We arrived to find that Ethan too was growing up. Although he never did believe that taking his diaper off was part of the toilet process; he was always well prepared with reading material when he went to sit on his potty.
Norah loves dancing with the music of the Nutcracker. It was clear what her Christmas present should be and the creation of twirly pink dancing skirts with sparkly gauze over skirts became our obsession. We were barely done when it was time to rush away to Grand Rapids.
Christmas was approaching. Almost every day we would find that Norah had made some theologically astute adjustments to the creche. The angel was always flat on the table. The entire flock of sheep huddled inside the stable while the Shepard's and wise men stared out at some mysterious horizon near the TV. Baby Jesus joined them on Christmas Day, then disappeared. After an intensive search he was found driving a truck up in Norah's room. We anticipate more adventures for the Holy Family next Christmas. 
News of a snow storm sent us driving all night just ahead of flurries and freezing rain. We arrived in Iowa to enjoy the cold with Norah and Chiara and James.
We still had sights to see when Antje called to remind us that Thanksgiving was soon and that she had seats at the table for us if we came back. Suddenly, there was nothing else that we really wanted to see. After 5000 miles of good times, we were home.
Many years ago my father had photographed an unusual adobe church and he was eager to see it again. As the days grew even colder we traveled back to Santa Fe, only to wandered without finding the church. Fortunately, the next day we discovered that in the decades since his last visit, it had stolen away and relocated in Taos. We found the missing church in all its splendor and our visit was complete. 
We drove and drove around New Mexico through beautiful country that made the travel as exciting as the destination.
It was hard to ignore the approach of the cold season when snow and ice on the path made hiking more challenging.
From Albuquerque we headed north, toward Los Alamos, and explored the cliff dwellings and remnants of an earlier people. We walked throught the past under a brillent blue sky and climbed ladders into another world.
Javelinas are notorious citizens of the national Park. We had just read the Ranger Newsletter with a gruesome tale of the wild pigs feasting on a poodle, thoughtlessly left leashed to a picnic table by its owners who were going to be gone for "just a minute". While we were eating lunch, a pair of Javelinas aggressively came out of the brush and advanced on the ranger's medium sized dog. She quickly locked the dog in the truck while the pigs pretended to be interested in the mountain view.
Big Bend National Park was an unknown territory, and so we headed south. Happily wading in the shallow Rio Grande, Vinnie warned me that splashing any further required a passport.
And as were drove through open country, it was easy to imagine my parents hiking and hunting in the rolling hills and brush land.
In the middle of a familiar old mission, there were surprises. We do not know the story of this small statue near the sanctuary, but she was an intriguing mystery.
In the heart of the city we walked along the River Walk, a place where my mother and her parents had walked long before my birth.
We left New Orleans for the Bar B Ques of San Antonio and they were worth the trip.
We began our visit to New Orleans in the French Quarter where Stuart and Thelma had lived early in their marriage. It was much the same, only now instead of mopping the blood off their front stoop and staring at the tourists, .... they were tourists. 
We arrived in Fort Pierce, abandoned Amante, and drove to Atlanta. All too soon, we were headed west for the homes that existed before Maria was born. 
In Beaufort we discovered some other migrants who were taking a break during their long voyage south.
