Sometimes I just get far more angry than is appropriate.  I like to slam doors when that happens.  I’m a door slammer alllll the way.  I fantasize about throwing things but I usually restrain myself.  Friday afternoon I came home, parked the car and walked down the alley toward the front door—-the mail carrier was walking up from the other direction.  Just then the words "God damn it to motherfucking hell" came rocketing out of one of the windows of my house.  The mail carrier nodded politely as she gave me the mail–followed by the sound of my husband bellowing "cocksucking, motherfucking hell" and a crash.

He fucked up the Ian Hunter tickets.

I felt inappropriate levels of anger. 

I couldn’t even be angry at him because he gets far angrier at himself than I ever could.  It’s not that we didn’t get any tickets—we did get the general admission tickets but not the reserved ones I wanted.  All I could do was be angry at myself…because what was I thinking having Ernie get the tickets?  Now let me say that I adore my husband with all my heart and can’t imagine even a day without him—ever.  However…..  did I just FORGET about the time he singlehandedly deleted the entire video rental customer database from the record store he was working at?  What was I thinking to entrust my beloved Luddite with getting tickets on a computer? ahhhhh well.

Let’s just say the afternoon was a little tense.  I mean I know, I know—-this weekend was all supposed to be about Leo’s Union Pacific Big Boy but let’s face it…..Ian Hunter is sort of MY Union Pacific Big Boy.  Oh well.

We tried to recover our moods and when the boys came home from school we tried to shuffle them into the van to head to St. Louis.  They wouldn’t budge.  This caused inappropriate levels of anger.  We finally got them out the door.  Of course about 15 minutes down the road I realized that I had left all our directions and reservation information at home.  I refused to go back though and we managed… things started out a bit rockily to say the least.

We headed west into St. Louis just as the sun was setting and managed to squint our way to our hotel.  I must say that I keep spending more and more money on hotels….I’ve just outgrown the seedy places we used to stay at (don’t ever ask my husband about some of the hotels we have stayed at that I chose….). So the place was brand new and really very nice.  I sent Ernie to the restaurant bar to have a beer and relax while the boys and I watched a cartoon and I sipped some wine that I had brought with me.  Then the boys and I took advantage of the pool and the hot tub (they thought the whirlpool was hilarious), we ordered some food and collapsed.

Next morning Leo was practically vibrating with excitement as soon as we woke up.  We were going to eat breakfast at the hotel but it was packed and chaotic so we took off to find someplace.  When we passed a place called Uncle Bill’s Pancakes that had a neon sign with a martini glass we realized we had found our spot.  Frighteningly massive servings—-and the corned beef hash was good and crispy the way I like it and suffice to say Ernie and I were full until that evening…..



So with full stomachs and very excited little boys we set off for the Museum of Transportation. All I can say is that Leo says it was the best day of his life….ever and I believe him.  And Owen said he’s even starting to like trains.  The Big Boy was HUGE.




in the cab of the Big Boy:


Leo ringing the bell in the cab of another engine:



the end of the day:


We spent a fortune but it was well worth it. I may have started out with inappropriate levels of anger but I guess the Big Boy tamed me….

More pictures to post but I find myself a bit….tired today…believe it or not…..