A break from the snow.

After spending a day in Cozumel surrounded by pasty-white tourists, obscene T-shirts and donkeys in Sombreros everyone in the Lindeman family was ready for a change of pace during our week-long excursion at sea—luckily we found exactly what we needed in Honduras. Knowing virtually nothing about the country other than its reputation as great place to snorkel, we hopped on a bus and headed across the island to Tabayana Beach.

If we had never made it to the beach (and at times it seemed like a toss up) the 30-minute bus ride was worth the trip. Weaving through narrow mountain roads in a 25 year-old American school bus, sideswiping passing cars and playing chicken with the natives made the ride, well … exhilarating. But what was really great was getting away from the touristy stuff and actually seeing how people live and the incredible environment they live in. When we finally made it to the beach, it was one of the nicest I have ever been on and the water was crystal clear. I wouldn't mind going back some time.

I'll take a refund on my flu shot, thank you

It's Tuesday, or "Day 6 of recovering from the flu" as I like to call it. While I could easily complain about how achy and feverish and congested I was for the past week, I was so darn lucky not to have any symptoms associated with the stomach. You know what I'm talking about. Regardless, I don't know what good the flu shot was that I got three months ago. Of all the flu strains out there, I had Influenza A -- which sounds like the most basic type of flu to me -- the most basic type of flu that you think the FLU SHOT would prevent someone from getting. Then again, I'm no doctor. And I'm certainly not complaining. Nope. And while I'm not complaining about being so sick that I was sequestered to the spare room for the week, missed two Shocker games (which may have been a blessing) and was forced to watch bad TV show after bad TV show (Did anyone else watch the Miss. America pagent? In my defense, they are modernizing it.), I do want to give a shout out to two special individuals in the house that kept life moving. Craig earned first place as Super Husband for taking over in the kitchen, cleaning the house, and being a good sport through it all. Zoe also earned special honors. The girl is so faithful, I can't remember how many times I woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat or trying to breathe and I'd open my eyes to find her head on my pillow. She's our little "Zoe Nightingale."

So I'm back among the living now. And I'm hoping my return to Koch Arena will be enough to help the Shocker men out tonight. It's been a rough season, but again, I'm not complaining.

Carrie

Gopher sends his regards.

To follow up on Carrie's post, we had a great—albeit busy—time during our hiatus from the frozen Kansas tundra.To give you an idea as to just how busy we were, Carrie, Curt and I each had to participate in a little foot race through downtown Houston before we could ever belly up to a buffet or delight in the wonders of duty-free men's fragrances. For Carrie, the promise of an all-you-can-eat pastry bar meant a personal record in the 5k and a 17th-place finish in her division. Curt and I on the other hand needed no added incentive, the Houston Half Marathon was our own Battle of Gettysburg, a struggle that pitted North versus South and brother against brother. In the end, however, my desire to crush my older brother's self image proved inadequate as I lost by four minutes and 14 seconds. (In my defense I did encounter a goo mishap at mile ten and have not completely ruled out the possibility of tampering).

Once the races were out of the way, we loaded up the cars, grabbed a quick lunch and headed to Galveston to hop on the Voyager of the Seas.

First of all, the boat was huge. On top of that, it was all Texan'd up, complete with large Texas flags draped across the sides and inflatable horns attached to the front like Boss Hogg's Caddy—the only thing it was missing was a few billion rhinestones and some teased hair. I fully expected the ship's horn to sound like the General Lee as it jumps the ravine. 

Inside, it was just as impressive, complete with a rock-climbing wall, inline skating track, mini golf course, ice rink and basketball court. Over the course of the week we got to know every inch intimately. Luckily what we didn't get to know intimately was our fellow 3,500 cruisers, which were an assortment of retirement home escapees, drunk Cajuns, Houston socialites, and awkward honeymooners—an eclectic mix to say the least. Our favorites were a group who came complete with their own day-of-the-week T-shirts including, "Margarita Monday," "Wasted Wednesday," and "Thirsty Thursday." I'm pretty sure that these were the same people who take home boxes of Wild Turkey as their souvenirs.

Our other company on the boat was the over 1,000 crew members representing 993 countries (that may not be exact). To say that customer service was their number one priority would be understatement, I'm having a hard time adjusting back to a life where I have to cut my own food. Speaking of food, Carrie and I are both on detox. There was so much to eat, I started to wonder where exactly we were being taken and if there was some sort of "prod" in my future.

Lastly, there was the onboard entertainment which much to my disappointment did not include Charo (Coochie Coochie). We did however take in a Johnny Cash impersonator—complete with a PowerPoint "Salute to America" and an ice skating show that, while impressive, was a bit confusing.

There's a lot I'm leaving out, but you probably need to get back to work or something and some things just deserve their own post.

Lost and Found: Sea legs

We're back from a week at sea and I'm pleased to report that my cube at work has finally stopped swaying with the "waves". Is it possible to be more sea sick back on land than we ever were with 12 foot waves in the Gulf of Mexico? I think so. Anyway, the Lindeman Family Cruise was a success! We sailed on Royal Caribbean's largest ship out of Galveston and visited three very different stops during the week: Cozumel, Progreso/Merida and Roatan, Honduras. We promise to share stories and pictures soon -- we just need to get our computer back from the shop first. Stay tuned!

Carrie

sew and tell: luggage tags

Nothing says "Merry Christmas" like a personalized luggage tag. That was my big project for the family this year. It seemed like the perfect gift with all the trips planned for 2008: the Lindeman family cruise, Erin and Scott's honeymoon, dad's 60th birthday getaway with mom ... I actually came across the template and instructions on a blog several months ago. I then looked for fabric that I thought reflected each family member's personality. While I could've stopped there and just made fabric tags sure to make black suitcases standout on airport conveyor belts across the world, I went out of my comfort zone and headed to the vinyl aisle. Did you know you can sew vinyl? Even at my skill level. So I went the extra step and added the vinyl to the tags so that you could slide in a piece of paper with all the contact information. The final touch was the ribbon for tying the tag to the handle. And there you have it: the gift that keeps on giving you a shout as you enter baggage claim.

Happy travels.

Carrie

Happiness is a warm dog.

Bedtime around our house has always been on a staggered schedule as the sandman seems to slowly pick us off one at a time over the course of a couple of hours. For years the first one to call it a day was Zoe. Each night she would stand at the bottom of the stairs and glare intensely at us around 9:00. This would generally continue until one of us either told her it was OK or actually escorted her upstairs. But lately, Luka has been beating her by a good half an hour (and he's never been one to wait for an invite). We'll all just be sitting there watching TV and he'll hop up and run upstairs, after which Carrie and I will follow the sound of his footsteps above our heads until we hear a little stutter-step followed by his duvet-muffled landing on our bed.

It may all seem innocent enough, a cute little dog tuckered out from a long day of harassing squirrels and chewing rawhides, but beneath the surface lies the truth—the beginning of a turf war for a good night's sleep. Following his lead, one at a time, we each make our way upstairs to stake our claim to a tiny piece of pillow-topped happiness. Before long there we are, the four of us wrestling for space, Carrie and I tugging at covers being weighted down by over 100 pounds of dogs, the dogs emitting old man-like grumbles every time we disturb them. Every once in a while everyone rotates positions, but for the most part we're glued to one another for the next 7-8 hours. The thing is, the idea of kicking the dogs off the bed just isn't an option, we may not get a lot of sleep, but what we get is quality. There is just nothing like being pinned in the fetal position by a warm dog on a cold winter night (or any night for that matter).

Running in circles.

Tomorrow's forecast calls for highs in the 50s and I couldn't be happier. With one week left in my training for the half marathon, I am in desperate need of a change of scenery. Low temperatures, ice, snow—they've all kept me trapped inside, relegated to the hum of the treadmill in our basement and the sterile white walls that surround the YMCA track. Needless to say, it has gotten pretty old. Last Sunday alone, I ran 110 laps around the track at the Y (see photo documentation above). Seriously … 110 laps. And when one runs 110 laps around a boring oval track, they look for things to keep their mind occupied, things like "I wonder what's in the cleaning lady's breakfast burrito?" "Man, that dude in the tights sure smells good." and "What's with the lady in the reading glasses?" But without the ipod it would all be impossible. I'm not sure how we did it when we were training for the marathon—sure, Carrie and I had each other to talk to, but who are we kidding, neither one of us are really that interesting to listen to and, I'm sure if Carrie had her choice, she would have chosen "Fergalicious" over anything I had to say.

All in all, the training hasn't been bad. In fact, after training for a whole marathon, I feel a little silly even talking about it. The thought has even crossed my mind of trying to get another 26.2 under my belt this yet year, but that's probably just the endorphins talking.

Craig