July 10, 2004--Day 21 By the time I went to bed last night, I had been up for nearly 24 hours. It took awhile to get through customs. I had to tell them about the donkey ride. I didn’t have to wait for the hotel shuttle as long as I did before.
Woke up this morning earlier than I had to. I’m sure it will take a few days to get back on a normal schedule. Since there really wasn’t anything to do, I came to the airport early, getting here about 7 a.m. I was thinking there would be lots of interesting shops to browse, but there are not in this part of JFK, and most of the restaurants are not yet open.
I did pretty well money-wise, as far as not coming back with a ton of Euros. I still have the €30 Scott gave me for my birthday, and I cashed my last Euro bill in at the London airport for some British coins for my collection. I have a bag of small Euro coins, which I’ll probably use as gifts or prizes. I only know of one thing I lost on the trip—a €2 souvenir coin, the Greek equivalent of the flattened penny souvenir. Perhaps it will turn up when I unpack.
One of the things that amazed me was talking to people on the cruise who go to exotic places for vacation each year. The family we ate dinner with went to the Galapagos Islands last year, and the kids had a ton of stamps in their passports.
On the plane now… it’s a ComAir Delta Connection, just four seats across. In some ways it’s more comfortable than the huge British Airways plane. There is a ton of room under the seat in front of me. Tried listening to my Star Wars book on cd, but the aircraft noise is too loud.
I’ve come to appreciate cargo shorts on this and other summer trips. I usually keep my prescription sunglasses in my right cargo pocket, my wallet in my main right front pocket, my camera in my left main pocket and miscellaneous in the left cargo pocket. Normally I’d have my cell phone and date book, but on this trip, I’ve left them behind, as well as my keys. I guess I won’t have to carry many keys around this summer.
This flight is only supposed to take an hour. We’re getting beverage service, which is nice. Sometimes on short flights you only get a bottle of water. I believe Delta charges extra for meals these days.
My souvenir bag has ripped out already. It is being held together with two tiny safety pins from the Hotel Stanley sewing kit.
There were two pigeons and three tiny birds in the Delta terminal at JFK.
My aunt, uncle and cousin will be picking me up in Raleigh this morning. They live near the airport. We’ll drive to Holden Beach, N.C., this afternoon. It has been our family tradition (my mom’s side) to spend a week at the beach every summer since the late ‘80s, though the last summer I was able to attend was 1999, the week after the (in)famous Purdue Global Mission Event. On the return flight that year, I had mono or mono-like symptoms, and it was one of the worst flights of my life.
As my cousins and I have gotten older, our attendance at the beach has been less consistent, though my brother may have a nearly perfect record. This year my aforementioned Raleigh relatives will be there the whole week. My grandparents will also be coming, though probably not today. My parents and brother will be there, as well as my Uncle Mark, his friend Joy, and cousin Kelly. I think that will be it. Our usual activities are miniature golf; a day trip to Myrtle Beach, often to pick someone up at the airport; Trivial Pursuit; walks on the beach; celebrating July birthdays; and the occasional family squabble. Okay… a squabble of some sort is pretty much a guarantee. Holden Beach is a family beach, and groups generally aren’t allowed to rent houses, so it’s pretty quiet. Most of the houses have names. We’ve always stayed at “The End Zone,” except for several summers at “La Te Da.” Other notable houses are “Donald’s Duck Inn,” “Casa del Mar,” and “Tale of the Whale.” We also stayed one time at a house much further inland, which probably didn’t have a name. Holden Beach is just about as far south as you can get on the North Carolina coast.
In the late ‘80s/early ‘90s, I drew a series of comic books about my family. The second issue of the series included a story about our trip to the beach that year, as well as our "American History" trip. (See the July 20, 1990, entry for an excerpt). Inspired by the Brady Bunch tv movie, “A Very Brady Christmas,” the series was titled “A Very Knauffy Christmas.” There are those in our family who pronounce it ‘nowfy’ and those who pronounce it ‘nawfy.’ The “K” is silent either way. There were six grandchildren when I started the series—three boys and three girls like the Brady Bunch. The cover of each issue featured a nine-square grid, with Gramma and Granpa in place of Mike and Carol Brady, the grandkids in place of the Brady Kids, and a special guest star in the center square. By the time the third issue came out, cousin Philip had been born, so he’s occupied the center square ever since.
Most years we visited my grandparents in North Carolina in the summer and at Christmas, though we were there at least one Easter and I think at least one Thanksgiving. I also went one Thanksgiving by myself, and Scott and I went the Thanksgiving when Mom and Dad were in California. I have fond memories of the parsonage where my grandparents lived. They’ve lived in a different house in a different but nearby town since Grandpa retired.
