"Bump 3" Has A Name!

We've been referring to my granddaughter's latest pregnancy as "Bump 3" for a while now. It's bump, as in Baby Bump, and their third. (Call me Captain Obvious.) He's to be called David, with no middle name decided up on yet. With a caesarean required, we also have the convenience of a due date scheduled, exactly when I'd hoped it would be, so we can go see and hold him before we absolutely positively have to be back home again. That is, unless he gets impatient and decides to mess up everybody's schedules by coming early. 

Frankly, unless it's dangerously early, we'd love a few days earlier even more, giving us more chances to hold him. There have been a lot of children born recently on both sides of Steve's and my blended family, but they do tend to choose the inconvenient times of the year when there's cold weather while we're basking in the Arizona heat, so we don't meet them until they're crawling. One of them is approaching 3 or 4 now and we haven't even met him. The one baby we did get to hold while still a baby was when we weren't in AZ more than half the year since I hadn't retired yet.

Now we're traveling back and forth annually, picking various routes either for speed, or scenery and swinging by widely scattered family. The first trip post covid vaccine was nearly a two week trek to make up for staying home the whole previous year. But right now we're both as healthy as we can expect to be and we're hoping to again combine scenery and family in both directions, the most important family this trip being the one nobody's has seen yet, Bump 3. So we're leaving a bit later and staying north a bit longer, and can still fill our obligations back down here and schedule what we want along the way.

Planning has already begun. The one thing we'll miss is going via Trail Ridge. Other than the one potential disaster when the brakes ceased responding when we started down from the top, back a dozen years or so, it's a route we have loved for many years. Unfortunately, my head gets a little distracted by a perceived lack of O2 above 10,000 feet and I've had to turn around the last two times. In fact, last fall it was at Many Parks Curve, much lower than ever before.

Oh, by the way, about those brakes? Turned out they just needed pumping, a somewhat forgotten and neglected skill from lack of need for decades.