Believe me, I'm sexier with most of my clothes on

I just woke up, and Rachel has barked the order for me write up our next blog. So much for Father's day. If this sounds like rambling, it's because my brain hasn't quite caught up to my typing fingers, and they have dirty minds.
To begin with, I would like to say that we weren't planning on vacationing. We just got sick of the sun and wanted to go somewhere the sun wasn't. Idaho Falls appeared to be having that rainy issue. Seriously, though, we planned the vacation so we could hang out with my Virginian brother and his family. But then his work told him no. I know. Ironic. I begged for an extra week off just for Darren and the guy changes plans willy-nilly.
Anyway, on my birthday (June 16th; thank you friends for noticing), I took a plane ride to Denver and then a bus to Ft. Collins for an animal scientist conference. I got to see old colleagues, met new colleagues, and basically sat through three days of presentations.
Meanwhile, Papa and Grandma showed up in Tucson and the rest of the family caravaned to Idaho Falls. Most of the luggage made it. Gabe's bag is still sitting on our bed in Tucson. Knowing this, Gabe puked a lot the whole way up on his only pair of pajamas.
Meanwhile, my conference ends and I fly to SLC and hitch a ride on the Hammon-mobile. Thanks Kevin.
And now we are here in IF. Soaking in the . . . rain. One good thing about it is that Rachel finally felt cold for the first time in 8 months. But then she was hot again. And then cold. She's so messed up. Last night she had the air conditioning on in the car while it was 60 degrees outside. The kids complained; she slapped my hand as I tried to turn it off.
And now the clock begins ticking. I leave in 2 weeks for dirt lawns, poky trees (home sweet Tucson home), and genetically stupid calves, and Rachel stays until her sister's wedding in August. I'm done.