We've been home almost a week now, and I still don't feel like I'm completely "here." There are still things lying around to be put away, and I'm still working my way through all those pictures. I subjected you, dear readers, to every one of them. I'm in the process of editing and filing, and then I'm going to put together an album of the "best" (or my favorites, really), which I will post here.
I also have not forgotten that way back at the beginning I promised to post the playlist of songs my daughter sent as our Travel Music.
Now that I'm home real life keeps interfering. Drat you, real life! You are boring but you keep dragging me back in!!
July 24, 2008
July 22, 2008
What are you wearing right now?
We're home. Finally. It wasn't easy. Let me backtrack:
It became painfully clear when we started plotting our way home that it was not going to be as simple as the way out. I was successful in making a reservation in Las Cruces, where we wanted to spend the night and take another look around La Mesilla. However, as I moved to the next spot (Kerrville, TX) I hit a brick wall. No rooms. Another town: no rooms. We cancelled Las Cruces and went back to the proverbial drawing board. We regrouped, and I headed back to the phone, cancelled Las Cruces, and tried again. No rooms. At this point I experienced a total meltdown. There is no other word to describe it. I broke down in tears. I wanted to go home. It was as simple as that. Like with Dorothy, Oz had been fascinating, but there's no place like home.
After some replotting, we decided to retrace our steps and the groundwork was laid for the trip back. We weren't happy. We didn't want the drive back to involve the long days the drive out had occasioned. Oh well.
Leaving the casita was bittersweet. It was a great place to stay. Glen became a fan of lavender linen spray and the memory foam pillows we got because of my allergy to down. The view was wonderful. Our hosts were lovely. I, however, could not wait to get a little bit closer to sea level. My blood pressure had been high all week, leaving me flushed and breathless by evening.
We stopped in Las Cruces long enough to cruise La Mesilla one last time, wondering where it was Brokeback Mountain had filmed. We agreed it was probably used for the Mexican scene. We were out of New Mexico by afternoon.
******
Back to Ft. Stockton, which is probably the most annoying town I've ever spent the night. No. Actually, I take that back. Peducah holds that title. Ft. Stockton is close behind. This is a nothing town in the middle of nowhere. It has oil. Therefore, it has oil workers. Our friends at Halliburton, etc., being anxious to house these workers somewhere when they aren't working at the refineries, are apparently willing to pay top dollar for hotel rooms. Ergo we also pay top dollar. The rooms are twice what they are worth, and they are barely habitable. We could not get a room at the acceptable places, so we ended up at this crappy hotel which shall remain unnamed here. I don't think the room had been vacuumed in months. The faucet handles were sticky to the touch. It was gross. We went to this restaurant to eat dinner and watched the flies graze the salad bar. In the morning, we decided against the free breakfast. The biscuits were soggy. The donuts were hard and soggy (not easy to accomplish), the o.j. was Tang........it all went in the trash. We left and stopped at McDonalds. At least their coffee is decent. I won't even tell you how much we paid for this room. It annoys me to think about it.
Next time we plot out our way home before leaving and reserve rooms where we want to stay, and not where we are forced to stay.
******
The next night was better. The Best Western in Lake Charles is great. Love the people. Love the clean room. We knew breakfast in the morning would be hot, fresh, and there would be variety. We didn't even mind the boys' baseball team staying there. I could have done without the trash they left on the grass. The graffiti they etched outside the breakfast room door was not cool. The breakfast attendant was not pleased when the parents failed to supervise their kids. She was visibly annoyed. It was still a good choice.
Dinner was a great choice. Steamboat Bill's! Come as you are and eat the best fried catfish in the world. Light and crisp. Even the rolls were fresh and hot. It was not fancy. We were the only tourists in the place. But it was fabulous! Think typical Maine lobster shack. Coney Island clam bar. Maryland crab shack. We would stay in this town just for the restaurant. Yum!
*******
Driving through Louisiana on a Sunday morning, listening to Cajun music on the local college radio station..........what could be a better start to a day! WHAM. The bridge over the Mississippi in Baton Rouge was backed up so badly it took almost two hours to get from one end of Baton Rouge to the other. On Sunday morning! At 10 a.m.!! We couldn't believe it, but it sure dashed any hope we had of making it home on Sunday night. We were on the hunt for a hotel room in the Florida Panhandle.
******
We're finally home. Is that how I started this post? I'm sitting here typing this as it thunders outside. It's hot. It's humid. There's laundry to be folded and still a suitcase to unpack. I have to clue what we're eating tonight. But we're home. The cat is home. HOME.
It became painfully clear when we started plotting our way home that it was not going to be as simple as the way out. I was successful in making a reservation in Las Cruces, where we wanted to spend the night and take another look around La Mesilla. However, as I moved to the next spot (Kerrville, TX) I hit a brick wall. No rooms. Another town: no rooms. We cancelled Las Cruces and went back to the proverbial drawing board. We regrouped, and I headed back to the phone, cancelled Las Cruces, and tried again. No rooms. At this point I experienced a total meltdown. There is no other word to describe it. I broke down in tears. I wanted to go home. It was as simple as that. Like with Dorothy, Oz had been fascinating, but there's no place like home.
After some replotting, we decided to retrace our steps and the groundwork was laid for the trip back. We weren't happy. We didn't want the drive back to involve the long days the drive out had occasioned. Oh well.
Leaving the casita was bittersweet. It was a great place to stay. Glen became a fan of lavender linen spray and the memory foam pillows we got because of my allergy to down. The view was wonderful. Our hosts were lovely. I, however, could not wait to get a little bit closer to sea level. My blood pressure had been high all week, leaving me flushed and breathless by evening.
We stopped in Las Cruces long enough to cruise La Mesilla one last time, wondering where it was Brokeback Mountain had filmed. We agreed it was probably used for the Mexican scene. We were out of New Mexico by afternoon.
******
Back to Ft. Stockton, which is probably the most annoying town I've ever spent the night. No. Actually, I take that back. Peducah holds that title. Ft. Stockton is close behind. This is a nothing town in the middle of nowhere. It has oil. Therefore, it has oil workers. Our friends at Halliburton, etc., being anxious to house these workers somewhere when they aren't working at the refineries, are apparently willing to pay top dollar for hotel rooms. Ergo we also pay top dollar. The rooms are twice what they are worth, and they are barely habitable. We could not get a room at the acceptable places, so we ended up at this crappy hotel which shall remain unnamed here. I don't think the room had been vacuumed in months. The faucet handles were sticky to the touch. It was gross. We went to this restaurant to eat dinner and watched the flies graze the salad bar. In the morning, we decided against the free breakfast. The biscuits were soggy. The donuts were hard and soggy (not easy to accomplish), the o.j. was Tang........it all went in the trash. We left and stopped at McDonalds. At least their coffee is decent. I won't even tell you how much we paid for this room. It annoys me to think about it.
Next time we plot out our way home before leaving and reserve rooms where we want to stay, and not where we are forced to stay.
******
The next night was better. The Best Western in Lake Charles is great. Love the people. Love the clean room. We knew breakfast in the morning would be hot, fresh, and there would be variety. We didn't even mind the boys' baseball team staying there. I could have done without the trash they left on the grass. The graffiti they etched outside the breakfast room door was not cool. The breakfast attendant was not pleased when the parents failed to supervise their kids. She was visibly annoyed. It was still a good choice.
Dinner was a great choice. Steamboat Bill's! Come as you are and eat the best fried catfish in the world. Light and crisp. Even the rolls were fresh and hot. It was not fancy. We were the only tourists in the place. But it was fabulous! Think typical Maine lobster shack. Coney Island clam bar. Maryland crab shack. We would stay in this town just for the restaurant. Yum!
*******
Driving through Louisiana on a Sunday morning, listening to Cajun music on the local college radio station..........what could be a better start to a day! WHAM. The bridge over the Mississippi in Baton Rouge was backed up so badly it took almost two hours to get from one end of Baton Rouge to the other. On Sunday morning! At 10 a.m.!! We couldn't believe it, but it sure dashed any hope we had of making it home on Sunday night. We were on the hunt for a hotel room in the Florida Panhandle.
******
We're finally home. Is that how I started this post? I'm sitting here typing this as it thunders outside. It's hot. It's humid. There's laundry to be folded and still a suitcase to unpack. I have to clue what we're eating tonight. But we're home. The cat is home. HOME.
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