Sea urchin? Of course. I'm cool like that.

I like to think I'm an adventurer. I'm a curious person and I will try just about anything. Climb to the top of the world just to see what I can see? Sure. Jump off a roof? All the time when I was a kid.

Jump in a two-seater airplane with no instrument panel and a rope system for guidance flown by a pilot 20 years past the time he should be driving a car ? Why not? It was for a news story.

So when the owner of a restaurant in Colorado offered us a delicacy that he'd acquired just two hours ago and was super hard to get, of course I said I'd love to try sea urchin.

This is what sea urchins look like in their natural habitat →→→



This is what's inside a sea urchin.
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This is what sea urchin sushi looks like.  →→→→

Ours had only one dollop of the delicacy, and the vessel that held it was much taller and filled with rice. Our restaurant friend described it as "the butter of the sea."

Now, I'm not sure who first decided to:

A. Dive to the ocean seabed to discover and acquire a sea urchin;
B. Think, "Hey, that looks tasty!"
C. Battle the spikes to open a sea urchin; and
D. Taste the innards of a sea urchin and decide, "I gotta get me more of this!"

But it wasn't and would never be me.

I  grew up in the country and know full well where my protein comes from, but I still don't like debris on my dinner plate. My mother-in-law would have disowned me if she knew I think digging out lobster or crab meat is more work than it's worth (not to mention the carcass pile.) Alison disagrees and is up to her elbows in crab legs as often as she can be.

I know it's not sophisticated of me, but in addition to not liking bones on my plate, I never want a fish to be looking up at me. That said, I did have a lovely oyster on the half shell this week. (I put the shell back in the center dish and was grateful when the plate was retrieved.)

My general thought is that when nature gives you barbs or shells to protect your insides, your insides are either pretty damn awesome or they're deadly. And you'll probably live your life just fine not knowing whether that creature would be the best thing you've ever wrapped your tongue around or would leave you with poison bubbling from your burned out mouth.

But back to the sea urchin I didn't have to catch or debarb. The chef was not wrong about the texture. It was like butter. But I doubt your butter tastes like, fish. But with extra fish. Like, lots and lots of fish.

And, it was a two-bite portion.

So yeah. I'm sitting there with the owner of this restaurant who's GIVEN us this treat, which you know has to be super expensive and we know is as fresh as seafood in Colorado can be. I take the first bite.

The chef is standing there, beaming, knowing we're going to love it. I don't know what the Captain's facial reaction was, but Meryl Streep had nothing on me even as my brain was delivering an all-caps banner ad in bold, red capital letters: YOU HAVE TO TAKE ANOTHER BITE OF THIS THING.

I sent a quick message to my stomach to hold on tight to the butter of the sea and quickly shoveled in the remaining morsel, all the while nodding and marveling as I described its scrumptious-ness to our host. I don't think I visibly shuddered.

It was an experience, that's for sure. The rest of the meal was out-of-this world fabulous, by the way. I'd totally go back there. But I'll be dodging the generous chef.

In other Colorado news, we had an amazing trip. I got to see my awesome friend, Kathy Van Buskirk and meet her super fun family. We went to an area of Denver famous for food and murals. (Indy may need to go there and learn how to roll out murals.) Food was great. The company was way better.

We were in Colorado because Jeff had an opportunity to learn some wonky, arcane utility stuff and it came the day after we delivered Ali to college. I went along for the ride, and we tacked on a couple of days that allowed Jeff to visit Casey Brewing & Blending, which creates some of his favorite fruited, sour beer.

We drove from Denver to the brewery and overnighted in nearby Glenwood Springs, home of the Thai restaurant where we encountered the sea urchin. We also had a fabulous breakfast at Sweet Coloradough, which boasts the best donut in Colorado. I feasted on samples and had a breakfast sandwich and a wicked good bloody Mary.  Jeff had donuts and declared them amazing.

The night before, we walked to a hot springs that offers a variety of temperature tubs that overlook the Colorado River. We were there at sunset and walked a super spooky mile back into town in the pitch black dark along the river.

Had we encountered rapists or murderers along our river walk, I had planned to tell them that we were full of sea urchin...

Our view from the hot springs.

There's a School Around Here Somewhere ...

"I know there's a school around here somewhere. It's not always going to be like summer camp."

That was Ali on the eve of her first "real" day at Purdue University.

Her summer camp reference was to Boiler Gold Rush, a $320 chance to move in a week before classes, meet new friends, get acclimated to campus and campus life. For those of you who will face a decision like this in the future: spend the money, swallow hard and send your baby early.

It's not about you anymore. Not that it ever was.

BGR offers a ton of activities, including some assemblies, which Ali pointed out later, are actually optional. "Because, you know, we're adults now and we can decide what we do."

She did do some of the "official" stuff, but she also played glow-in-the-dark capture the flag, ran through fountains, danced and acted like a crazy kid. It was mostly lots of fun and gave her the chance to actually know some of the thousands of people who, come class time, will be jostling through the stairwells and sidewalks.

I joined a Facebook parents group just to see if there was stuff I needed to know. Mostly I lurk and make fun of some of the parents who seem to want to live under their kid's beds. (Yeah, yeah, it occurred to me, but I would never DO it). One guy had the guts to post something like, "Are any of your students actually doing any of the move-in work?" That guy better never run into some of the moms who chewed on him like feral cats. "This is supposed to be a SAFE place!" one whined. That page is a lot like watching reality TV -- makes you feel better about your own level of crazy.

We had some teary moments during drop-off, but it was mostly good. BGR makes move-in easy as crew meet you and lug most of your stuff upstairs for you. They don't accept tips, but give good advice and so most of the heavy lifting.

Ali's Herron High School and Ireland travel buddy, Corie, came by and hung out with us. She downloaded all she'd learned by moving in the day earlier. We found a place for lunch where Ali could indulge her love of crab, loaded the girls up on snacks and dropped them on the sidewalk with just enough time to get to a BGR meeting. Leaving her with Corie made it a lot better than leaving her alone.

I didn't cry all the way home, but there were more than a few misty miles. It's a good thing the Captain was driving. I'm not going to sugar coat it, it was hard and I miss her. I had a lump in my throat the size of Chicago for most of drop-off day Made it hard to talk. To breathe.

At the same time, I was/am so proud of her.

Until, of course, I got home and realize she's relocated the stupid rubber snake she'd bought to torment me just before her departure. I'd purposefully left it where she'd hidden it so it wouldn't give me a heart attack. I was going to take care of it when I got home. And yes, I almost stepped on it and wet myself when I finally found it again. I could hear her evil cackle as I recovered my composure.

So she spent her first several days having fun. She's been great about sending a text now and again.

She called us her first Sunday night to report in before she had to actually get to schoolwork. All seemed well and she was excited for her 8 a.m. chemistry class -- one of three chem classes she's taking. (Crazy, right?!)

"Well, I guess I'm going to have to set two alarms," she reported to her father the next day.

That's right, she slept through most of her first class on her first day. I'm sure she was cussing up a blue streak and skid into class with her glasses askew and hair sticking up on all sides. She made a point to introduce herself and apologize to the professor after, though. Chemistry is her favorite subject and her major, so I'm glad she took the initiative. The lecture was recorded, so no real harm done. Welcome to college, Ali.... :)

And yes, she's been setting two alarms ever since, and she's learning that her high school habits don't exactly work for college assignments. There's a lot more reading, a lot more out-of-class work and a lot more work in general. But she's digging in.

Some things she's learned:

• If you don't lock your bike, it will end up in a tree. (That's not her bike. She was part of the squad that planted it up there, because she's evil Alison Reed.)
• If your room-mate gets sick, you will, too.
• Staying up til 2:30 a.m. watching movies with your new friends makes it hard to get to morning classes, even with two alarms.
• It's awesome to have a stir fry station in your dorm.
• Calling your mom on her birthday is the best gift you can give her.

She has her first week in, and I haven't called to check on her. Her name did come up last night, as we had an impromptu dinner with friends. Jeff said, "She's probably out drinking."

He's such a comfort.

I'm not crying; you're crying

We're all wearing our game faces as life as we know it winds down to what I truly hope will be an exciting,wonderful and inspirational time for my little redhead.

We have four days left until she heads off to West Lafayette to Boiler up! I use the exclamation point because that's what comes after those two words, not because I'm always excited at the thought of her starting her college career.

I'm proud of her -- it's hard not to be.  And I'm happy and excited for this next chapter in her life. We've been preparing her for it since we read that first book to her and stepped back with our hands up in surrender when she insisted, "I can DO it myself."

But it's also sad to think that I'll soon call her name to tell her something funny or ask "Do these shoes live here?" and she won't be here to answer. Her shoes won't be clogging up the entry way. Her empty mac-n-cheese bowl won't be on the couch. She won't be on the other end of the couch when it's time to read or watch TV or nap.

Sigh.

A friend of mine told me about "soiling the nest," a phenomenon where kids about to leave home start acting badly in a subconscious way that makes it easier on everyone when it's time to part. Ali hasn't done that. If anything, she's done the opposite as she battles the bittersweet along with us.

She's not afraid to take on the challenge of college. She knows she'll be OK and that there will be a time of adjustment. But she admits that she'll miss us, too.

We've been shopping and packing and doing the things you need to do.

"This is weird," she said the other day as we were literally getting things she'd need in her new home.

I looked back at her and said, "What's weird is that I'm helping you do it."

In addition to her prep work, she's spent time with her closest friends. Two weeks in Ireland with one group and most recently with a different group she first met when they all sat at the same table at lunch their first day at Herron High School.

Every kid should be so lucky to have found friends like she has at Herron. I'd do anything for anyone of those beautiful people.

Ali's lunch table group has remained close all four years. At one point, they joked about forming a band that they'd call Seeds & Things, which is what they now call their little group.

They started their last-gathering-before-college at the state fair and then brought their giggles home to the living room where they splayed out everywhere. Because it was their last time together for a while, I didn't mind their giggles and goofiness. By 3 a.m., though, I had to give in and remind them that some of us had to work the next day. (Some of us included some of them.)

This was one of those rare times when Jeff's hearing issues worked to his advantage... I couldn't stay to make them breakfast, but I made a bunch of bacon, left them a note and told them to lock up when they leave. They even left me a thank you note!

In addition to the farewell tour, Ali has gotten her checking account, credit and debit cards. She's connected with her roommate, done her advance work and bought her first textbook. I asked her what she had left; was there anything she wanted to do.

"I just want to hang out with you guys," she said. So we had french onion soup at one of our favorite restaurants and played cards last night.

While Ali has been going out and being silly, I've been tearing apart the back porch. It was only recently I realized it's been keeping me sweaty and occupied so I don't think so much about Ali's departure. I've bloodied my knuckles scraping up old linoleum and torn nails as I stripped, primed and repainted wood elements out there. Soon, we'll be ready to apply wine panels to an ugly concrete wall that I've been staring down for 20+ years.

If I know me, I'll be over servicing my clients as the summer winds down and fall sets in. Let me know if you need work done -- any work, any work at all. I'm not picky. Anything's better than moping about like I've lost my favorite toy.

Which, of course, brings me to the Captain. He's putting on a brave face, too, but I think he's going to be just as sad as Ali and me. He'll make fun of us for it and hide most of his chagrin, but he's going to have a tough time. We've been so fortunate in Ali -- she's fun to be with. Almost always. 

One thing that WILL help me cope is that she came home from babysitting the other day with a plastic snake. She'd taken her little charge to the arcade, spied the stupid thing and remembered the time she put a similar one on my shoulder while I was driving. She called my name from the back seat to get me to come eye to fang with the plastic reptile and I almost hit a tree in the midst of my panic attack.

Unremorseful then and unremorseful now, she claims she's going to hide it somewhere in the house before she leaves. Just, you know, so she's remembered. Maybe the little brat HAS soiled the nest...

The other night we debated whether to make dinner or go have onion soup. We ended up in Broad Ripple and were greeted with the sight below. She snapped the shot just as we walked in. I'm trying to take it as a harbinger not just of that evening but for what's to come. Wish me luck that I focus more on the rainbow than the gray skies headed my way.