On Thursday, Mark, Mom and I made trip to Virginia, but it wasn't the one that I have been long awaiting. This trip was a spur of the moment decision to switch cars with the Aquino's, to lend a hand in putting in counters, and, more importantly, lend some
tools to put in the counters. On the trip down, I drove for the first 3 hours. I played tag with a big purple truck, and was (despite what Mark says) nearly run into a cement guardrail/divider-thing by a huge truck that refused to stay in it's own lane. But nothing of any greater interest than that happened.
On Friday, Mark and Edward laid the sub-counter (or what ever you call the plywood and cement-board base), while I hung out with Becky and the boys. I know Mark found it interesting adapting himself to work on Edward's night-shift schedule. On Saturday we discussed the layout. Since we had nothing square to work off of, and the sink wasn't centered, we decided to go with a diagonal pattern (Hooray!) with a frame around the edges, which was, of course, the most complicated pattern discussed, but doesn't it always work that way? I don't know about the Aquino's opinion, but I think diagonal patterns are the best.
So, we started laying tiles Saturday night, but didn't come up with a system until Sunday evening. Mark measured, Edward cut, and I, as usual, laid. I like that job the best, because there is only one decision to be made; whether immediate tranquility is worth more than long term peace of mind; which is arguably a worse decision to make than where to mark and cut tiles, but it is for some unknown reason less stressful for me. The reason this decision has to be made, is because it's my call whether a cut is good enough or not. If it's not, I have to decide if I am going to tell them it's not good enough, (but you have to be kind of brave) or I can pretend it's fine, and hope no one ever notices. However, if they do notice sometime in the future, after it has been laid, grouted and sealed, they are going to be much more aggravated than if I had told them right away; I have so far decided to brave imminent danger to my eardrums* over indefinite impending danger to my life.
*It must be noted, I suppose, that I am taking writer's license with this post, as with many others, so what I write shouldn't be taken too seriously. If you want exact truth, you should read a literalist's blog.
I am also usually responsible for leveling the tiles, but the only way I can shift 12" tiles, is by balancing one one foot, and hopping up and down on it, and as there wasn't room for me on the counter, and that it didn't seem very ethical to jump on a kitchen counter, I allowed the guys to use their brute strength to get the large pieces, and I only worried about the little pieces.
On our floors, I also had done all the grouting. But there were far too many willing hands to make that necessary, or even practical. I think that David is the only one who didn't help, though he did manage to get it on his clothes.
We all agreed it looked kind kind of Mediterranean, and kind of like a patio; neither of which are exactly normal for a southern farmhouse kitchen, but seemed down-right beautiful when durability and cost were taken into account.
So, we grouted and sealed and placed the sink Monday morning, then packed up for the trek back home. Which would have been considerably easier if we had taken the difference of size between the diesel and the Jetta into account when we were packing the diesel for the trip down, but we eventually got everything, and everybody (I almost got to start my vacation a few weeks early) into the car, and started the 7 hour trip home.
Portable DVD players were a wonderful invention.
David wasn't quite sure that water's all it's cracked up to be, his first time down. 
Daniel discovered the sport of trying to squirt aunts who are holding cameras, and found it to be great fun.
Of course, the big kids didn't want to get left out; I was right behind him. You know, I've discovered the strangest thing since starting this blog. Did you know that if you're the one holding the camera, you don't get in any of the pictures? It's really not fair in the least.
Then there was the bee battles. I don't remember exactly what bug they were trying to kill, but they definitely put up a good fight.
And we mustn't forget the reason for the trip - little 'Belle. 
There is no such thing as too much holding of a baby. At least for the hold-er; you never can tell what the hold-ie thinks. 
The end of the two week vacation came all to fast, (which is kind of redundant; isn't the defenition of vacation a period of time that is over before you want it to be?)
