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I had planned this evening to go running after tidying up the kitchen following dinner, then having Jack help me put up some ceiling planks in the computer room before sending the kids to bed and unwinding while watching a show or two.

Instead, we rode on a gondola in downtown Indy.
Henry really, really wanted to get in the water.
We parked about a quarter of a mile away and Jack hurried off with the kids to get a head start, while I stuffed my purse under the seat and grabbed a bottle of water.
“Did you pay the parking meter?” I yelled.
“Yeah! C’mon!” Jack replied.
We made it to the gondola with fifteen minutes to spare before our departure, when Jack turned to me and asked, “Did you pay the parking meter?”
Apparently, he thought I was asking if he’d grabbed a water.
I got my evening run in after all.

A co-worker of Jack’s lives on the canal and in his free time enjoys giving gondola rides up and down the mile and a half canal while warbling classic Italian tunes and spouting all kinds of trivia–everything from facts about the gondola we were riding in, housing on the canal, the USS Indianapolis, to the canal itself.

Watching all the Pokemon Go players wandering the canal.

The ride was leisurely and enjoyable, kind of like a canoe trip, except I didn’t have to do the work or the singing AND we didn’t have to hop a flight to Italy to ride a gondola.

 Not that I would complain about a trip to Italy.

But close enough.
For now.

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True stories of raising children, remodeling, braving the elements and plotting out life, all while living on a humble acreage in central Indiana.

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