Leg Seven

Arrived in Huron, Ohio, October 30th, 4 P.M.
Jeep Odometer: 192,237
Trip: 1,229

Going back to Huron always brings back memories. Of course there’s the running joke, “How long are you staying? Ten months?” Gregg breaks that out without fail every time visit. I can’t blame him, though, because I’d probably do the same thing.

But going back to Huron is as close to going home as I’ll ever feel when visiting a sibling. I did live there for ten months, two years ago, and I still feel very blessed to have done it. There’s no substitute for living in such close proximity to your nieces and nephews, especially in such formative years of their lives. Mya is the most hilarious four-year-old in the world, Ava is the modern-day princess, with a heart of pure God, and Lucas possesses a striking resemblance of the boy I once was—small for his age but well beyond his years both playing and watching sports.

I got to carve pumpkins with the Winnestaffers, which consisted of them choosing a design, and me actually carving them, but it was a pure blast, despite the inevitable arthritis I developed within the three-hour process. I also got to dress up as a pirate, and I took them trick-or-treating. Along the way we were joined by half a dozen neighbor kids, all of which called me Uncle Piper, and half of which I’d never met before. I always dreamed of being famous, I just aspired for a little more than ‘legend’ status among the four to ten-year-old range in the Eagle Crest Development. I’ll still take it as something, though.

Later on that week, Karen brought Marissa, Jonah, Ethan and Zachary up from the ‘Boro, and the party finally got into full-swing. We had an epic 56 to 56 tie on the backyard grid-iron, and I will forever plead the “Fifth” regarding whether or not I “fixed it”. All I will say, being a man who prides himself on individual statistics, is that my interception in the fourth quarter destroyed my nearly flawless quarterback rating.

On Saturday, Dad and Gerry came up from Youngstown, and Jon and Maeve came over from South Euclid. As only a Vasko could put it: who says nine is enough when there can be thirteen? The kids were animals until bed time, as was expected, and the adults stayed up late eating potato chips and drinking cold beers, as was expected.

Everyone should get to experience a week like that, at least once a year, even if it involves the self-induced pain of damaging a quarterback rating to keep any kids from crying :) In other words, everyone should have a family like mine!