Last weekend, while my husband and I were sitting out back by a cozy fire pit, we decided that this weekend we would go see our son, who is attending grad school in Pocatello. We hadn't seen him since Christmas, as he is usually so deep in his studies that we don't like to take away from his study time, but this weekend marks the final days of his spring break and we were really missing him.
So, we made our plans and packed our bags and headed off to our weekend adventure.
Saturday was delightful through and through. We got to see our son's new apartment, which is roomy, has lots of windows and an aggressive rosebush out front.
He also has a roommate. A godly young man, who is a great friend, with a wonderful family whose home we were invited to (before we had met them) not only to join them for dinner Saturday evening, but to spend the night as well! We didn't take them up on spending the night and that turned out to be a very good thing; which I will explain further up and further in, but we did go to dinner.
Our son mentioned a potato soup recipe I had sent to him some time ago. He had recently purchased all of the ingredients, but both he and his roommate said they thought the recipe was pretty complicated. I suggested that after church today I could cook up a batch.
We had lunch at Winger's--which works out well for this gluten-free woman, as they have a number of safe items on the menu. Even the popcorn they set on the tables was gluten free (not all is; the corn is fine, but many of the add on ingredients can have gluten in them).
After shopping, checking into our hotel, etc., we headed to a local pizza place, Pier 49, to pick up a gluten-free pizza for me to have at dinner (it was really, really good). Our son's roommate's mother makes homemade pizza and amazo chocolate chip cookies every Saturday evening and has for as long as he can remember; they usually watch a movie as well. This tradition is the source of many wonderful memories for the family, as she always makes tons and they have had lots of others join them over the years.
Last night was no exception. Besides our family, there were two of the boy's buddies that came by as well. They all ate copious amounts of everything and the fellowship was great. Lots of laughter, lots of good stories, lots of texting...
Do you know where the term cowlick came from? Neither did we. There were some searches done last night, but I did one just now and found this:
Cowlick is British in origin and refers to a tuft of hair that refuses to lie flat. It likely comes from a comparison with the projecting ridge of hairs on a cow's hide, which have been licked into shape by the animal. The word was first recorded in 1598.
(I found it here, scroll down about two thirds of the page and it is in the right hand column.)
Another thing that came up: did you know that you can ask Professor Google things from your cell? I didn't. Apparently, you type in what you want to know, like, DEFINITION, COWLICK, and type google in the to line. The answer comes back pretty swiftly. Check with your phone company to see if it will cost extra to use this service; I was told it is a regular text and shouldn't.
Now, how plans changed. I had been having little hints that I might be developing a sinus infection or something for a couple of days and by Saturday afternoon the nasty bug was asserting itself. Providentially, I barely had any symptoms while at dinner, but by the time we got back to the hotel, there was a change on my face; instead of my nose there was a...
If you get my meaning. The night was miserable; I used an entire box of Puff's Plus and polished off the box of Kleenex in the hotel. It didn't take a rocket scientist (just my sweet baboo) to figure out the weekend with the boys was at an end. I called and gave our son the sad news and we set our sights for home.
On the way, I finally pulled out my camera and did some drive by shootings from the car. These are a couple of my favorites:
Oh, and Jeremiah, look what your dad made for supper!