1. Our trip to London was uneventful, thankfully, with just one glitch getting through security. "Is this your bag, ma'am," the TSA agent asked? Indeed, it was. Opening it up, he found the offending culprit wrapped in a paper towel: an $80 bottle of wine Pete had brought at the last moment.
2. Unclear on the concept of no freakin' liquids, Pete was defiantly going to bring the wine. Told it had to be destroyed, Pete demanded to see it destroyed right then.
3. Obviously, the kids and I travelled without Pete as he was detained for his obstinance.
4. Nah, just kidding. I dragged him away from the TSA agent, and he boarded the flight with us.
5. But it could just have easily gone the other way.
6. Our first stop is at the caravan park Pete's sister and brother-in-law run in Portland. Friends of theirs have loaned us their caravan for the duration of our stay in this area, lovely people that they are.
7. The park is adjacent to a old castle, Rufus Castle, I believe, named after the eldest son of William I. There's a graveyard with Saxons and pirates. Youngest, of course, prefers the pirate graves.
8. Returning from the beach, back through the graveyard, Youngest asks if he can have Pete's body when he dies.
9. Daughter yells, "I call Mom's body."
10. Pete suggests that the kids get together at Thanksgiving, bringing our bodies together each year. Day 2 of our vacation ends, as many holiday days do, on a perverse note.