Update...

I'm at my Dad's lake house this week for a couple of days. So far, it's been a lot of fun, but a lot of work. My sister (she's 14) has about 8 friends up here with her, and I'm kind of pitching in and helping out my dad and his fiancee with the ins and outs of making sure 9 kids are fed, in bed, and not drowning. It's harder than you think.

This, along with a few other experiences of late, have convinced me that I DO, in fact, have a maternal bone in my body, which is a relief. I was a little afraid before that I wouldn't have that fear of kids getting hurt; a fear that translates into the covering of sockets, the avoiding feeding them too much sugar, and the remembering to order kids to put on life jackets and seatbelts. So there you go - I do, in fact, have some sort of maternal instinct. My uterus will just be blissfully unaware of it until I am good and ready to feel exhausted for the rest of my life.

I was a little skeptical of the whole idea at first. I was a lifeguard briefly when I was younger, as well as a swimming instructor, so I know that kids, by and large, will always take risks; risks that are inherently terrifying when it comes to water. Kids will always take risks like this in groups that they would never consider when alone or with one other kid. Moreover, I'm haunted by the story of a guy from my hometown who recently broke his neck when he jumped into a body of water that had, unbeknownst to him, been affected by drought - he dove into a foot and a half of water from a significant height. Hearing that heartbreaking story, along with countless others from the lake and from my days in insurance, yeah, I was a little worried. Luckily, the edge of our dock is a good 20 foot depth, and even better, these kids are appropriately cautious, but it's still a little nerve-wracking to see them jumping off heights and running on the dock.

But so far, it's been a good experience. They're all well-behaved, and save for their love of loud karaoke, they're enjoyable kids. The only injury has been when I had to dig a splinter out of a girl named Shelby's foot. I didn't think she'd get it if I started the Steel Magnolias monologue where Sally Field goes "Open your eyes, Shelby. Open your eyes..." when Julia Roberts is in the hospital bed. I'm even getting to bed on time so that I'll wake up early and go running (I'm trying, Meghan), so I'm on a roll here.

But at any rate.

I'm also discovering the things I'm NOT necessarily so crazy about in Lynchburg. Well, one in particular. Lynchburg is a fairly large city (about 100,000 people, which is bigger than Athens, actually), and its a beautiful area, surrounded by mountains, lakes and just general prettiness. But it's out in the middle of nowhere.

Actually, no. It's on the FAR side of nowhere. You first have to drive THROUGH the middle of nowhere in order to get to Lynchburg.

This isn't SO bad, but if you're trying to get OUT - without a car - you're a little stuck. I've got to go back to Philly next week some time, and I've been researching options. My best (read: cheapest) option at this point is to actually FLY out. However, since Lynchburg's airport is approximately the size of a silver dollar, I had to click "include surrounding airports". I also gave a big old window of when I could fly out so I'd save a little coin. I was thinking they'd point me to Roanoke or Charlottesville (both an hour away in different directions), or even possibly to Greensboro, North Carolina, which is an hour and a half away. My parents might be able to swing me down that way and not have it eat up a tank of gas and/or their whole day. Since my mom is generously taking Colonel Mustard for a couple of weeks while I wrap some stuff up and start packing in Philly, I figured I could easily get myself a cheap ticket and go home with ease.

What's my options?
Roanoke: $609.
Charlottesville: $792.
Greensboro: $898.

And my last? $109.
SCORE. I was all about to book it, and then I noticed - my nearest major airport that they consider "surrounding"? Charlotte. THREE HOURS AWAY.

I didn't book it.

I thought for a while, and while I'd love to go back to Charlotte, maybe wear out my welcome with the Holbrooks a little, and then get on my cheap flight to go back to Philly, it's like darn near impossible without a car. My parents actually work for a living, so taking three hours to drive me down and then three hours to drive themselves home is a pain in the keester, not to mention a big old chunk of change for gas, for which I simply don't have the money to reimburse them.

So it's back to the drawing board.

I love drawing, but not THIS.