Our Native Village or My Name is Village as Kay calls it...

The following blog is long overdue and blatantly plagerized from our friends site, but... when you are home alone with 3 kids, no power and therefore no internet, you can get a little behind on blogs. So... bare with us, we'll get back into the swing of things again soon:)

" It didn't take long after reaching Bangalore to decide we needed to make some plans to get out. I spent the next weekend, and our dating anniversary of 12 years (an occasion Wade really finds special; don't get me started) with Target visitors in town touring. I enjoy it, but the six-day work week followed by what feels like four jobs (cruise boat hostess, manager of the team represented by visitors, manager of the teams not, and admin assistant) gets long.And so the following weekend was time to head out of town, but this being Bangalore, not too far out. Wade has frequented a place called Our Native Village several times now and I hadn't been, it's only 20 km outside of town, and has the quiet serenity of a farm. Perfect.

After the two hour drive (yep, about 10 miles all told) we had reached the countryside. The kids embraced the occasion with befitting enthusiasm while the adults strolled behind comforted by the fence around the perimeter.Kay, Caden and Jim take a spin on the bullock cart. As it pulled away out the gates, Tracy and I briefly questioned the wisdom of the trip...briefly. And they had fun.

The swimming pool is a natural one, with reeds and frogs to support the eco-system. The kids had a blast while the adults enjoyed the weather. (Suddenly, MN in Feb doesn't seem to grand.)

I do have to repeat though a thought that I've noted before. The Indian massage is...uh...really something. Violating. To say you have to experience it to experience India is sort of like saying you have to spend quality time in the red light district to understand Amsterdam. So I'll just tell you to trust me and opt for the head and shoulder massage. I'm sure the ayurvedic principles are solid, but I wouldn't describe it as relaxing unless you can "go to a happy place" during the process. Which takes place on a solid wood table that looks like something out of Princess Bride and involves enough oil to make Dubai nervous. And ends with a green goo soup to get the oil off "but not too much" in the words of my masseuse. Anyhow, I've decided not to do that again. I digress...

We also made pottery. Caden had a blast and it was a beautiful setting for a getaway. We also rode bikes, sat in the sunshine and put the kids to bed to enjoy the evening hooka. Not a bad day at all.It was a great getaway - and a great place...20 kms can be so far away. The drive home brought that thought back just a little bit... :) "