How a Chamorro packs to go to Grandma's house.

Hafa A'dai.  I am beginning to feel like our house is becoming a bit of a sacrificial lamb.  Dig a giant hole in the ground, it will rain.  Have the blower on the furnace conveniently go out before starting any HVAC work, and it will snow and become a blizzard.  As usual, we will see, but since we are not done backfilling the foundation, me thinks it will.  We could technically fix the furnace, but it really isn't that energy efficient and will be replaced with the new duct work and hopefully with air condition capabilities.  Not a problem when it is in the 60's like it has been.

In the mean time we are plugging and chugging along.  We have a basement with real concrete walls and a concrete floor.

Rusty: "Hummm. (contemplating to self) Let's see, how do I get my punk ass down into the hole?  I can't jump, but there has to be a way."

 "They have figured out a way to get down there."

"I'm getting closer."  Yo Mattie, wanna join me?"

"Ta Da! Success!!!! Houston, I have landed in the hole.  Now how the heck do I get back out? Doh!!"

Whether it decides to snow or not, it is still going to get cold.  That is just what is does here in Colorado.  70 degrees one day, 13 degrees the next.

So I have compiled a list of what it takes a Guamanian girl to get herself to Grandma Nene's house.  Because Nene's house has heat folks, and like I have said in the past, this ain't the Little House on the Prairie, and I am not anywhere near resembling Caroline Ingalls.  More like a Real Housewife meets a Dance Mom.  Ok, maybe not that bad.

Step 1. Clean the house.  No one wants to come home to a dirty house.

Step 2. Go grocery shopping for lots of munchy foods.  Because as we all know the husband who you have left behind to make sure the pipes don't freeze with a space heater or 3, is not going make anything more then a homemade bean and cheese burrito and a Totinos Party Pizza.  Especially after a long night of snow removal.

Step 3. Grab your nearest laundry basket and stuff it full of as much crap as you could need and then some.  Including snow boots, bibs, mittens, hats, long underwear, sunscreen, dolls, water bottles, and book bags all for school.  Assuming they don't cancel it.  Why a laundry basket?  Because that is how we roll.  Pssshhh suitcase.  I laugh.

Step 4. Grab another laundry basket because you realized you haven't packed anything for yourself besides the sweatsuit you are wearing.  So pack 3 more pairs of sweat pants and some underwear.  No bra needed.  You work from home after all.  Make sure you pack the rest of your important necessities.  You know the things you can't live without.

*Coconut Butter spread - The island is in your blood and it likes coconut.

*Your own soy sauce -  It is like Vodka.  You like what you like.

*Speaking of Vodka, Vanilla Smirnoff - Because Nene is not of the old Guamanian guard and doesn't like martinis, so there is no vodka.  She is however partial to frozen margaritas.  You don't do tequila on a school night, and it is best to be prepared in case there is a snow day, and there is no school.  Take some of Grandma's Coke, and mix it with the Vodka, and you are Happy Happy Happy.

*Brussel Sprouts, Fat Free Greek Yogurt, And Kombucha.  Because you are a Nuevo Chamorro, and take more after the California side of the family vs. the East Coast side.

*Sticky Rice, because again, Grandma prefers Jasmine.  Rice pot will be provided upon arrival.  No need to pack.  Hers works just fine.  You know this because she made sure you registered for one before your wedding.  And well would you look there, you received two rice pots as gifts when you got married.  No need to return the other one.  To which she promptly stole the one she liked best.

Step 5. Pat yourself on the back because you remembered dog food and lotion.  Still didn't bother to pack a bra, but 2 pairs of Uggs and 1 pair of Sorel Joan of Arctic boots with lots of fur have made their way into your basket.

Step 6. Pile all of your crap in the car including your 2 stinky children and their even stinkier 4 legged friends.  Can't leave the dipshit dingo dogs behind.  If you time it right and return home after the storm, the mud will have dried and the house will still be clean, (See Step 1) because there will be no dogs dragging it in.  Brilliant.

Did I mention we are only leaving for 3 days? 13 miles from home.  There are a total of 3 laundry baskets in that trunk, and another bag of food and toys in the front seat that you can't see.

Step 7. Check the chickens to see if they have enough food, water, and their favorite rainbow fruit flavored cereal like Trix or Fruit Loops.  They aren't particular and will eat generic, but it must be artificially fruit flavored and rainbow colored.  Don't try and fool them with the organic beet and spinach colored ones either.  Believe me, they know the difference.  They are not Nuevo Chamorro, they are just picky bitches.  Make sure you leave a note for your husband not to forget about the chickens while you are away.  Because in his sleep deprived over worked state he may forget he has a name let alone 12 chickens.

Step 8.  Kiss your husband goodbye and head over the river and through the woods to Grandmother Nene's house.

Adios mi familia.