California: Day 1

One has to wake up very early in order to fly across country and land 3,000 miles away by 9:30 in the morning.

Watching airplanes while we wait to board

The flight was just about as dreamy as possible! Chris had been upgraded to first class, so he asked to give up his seat so he could sit with his family. As the flight continued, this nice stewardess kept coming up to us and giving us wonderful, large snacks for free, things that normally would cost something exorbitant like $8 for cookies. Finally Chris explained to little old me that she was the first class stewardess and she was still taking care of Chris (and his whole family!) like first class passengers!

Because of another rearrangement of seats, we ended up with three seats on one side of the aisle and two seats on the other, so one for each of us even though Margaret was riding as a lap baby. The extra space is always so nice. We ended up playing musical seats, rearranging as needed.

The baby slept for about the first three hours of the five-hour flight. She was in the Ergo on my front, so that quiet time worked out beautifully. The bigger kids were extremely well behaved throughout. Not one tantrum on the flight and barely any fussing from the baby.

At one point Chris started to remark that this was our best flight yet and I shushed him, "Shhhhhh! Don't say it! We don't want to jinx anything!"

Upon loading into our rental van, John helpfully commented, "This is so much cleaner than your van, Mama!" I replied wryly, "Yes, nobody has been driving it around with three small children." Indeed, within two hours, one fast food run, and letting the kids play loose in the parked van with Daddy while I was shopping for groceries inside, our rental van is looking a lot more "homey," shall we say.

Driving away from the airport, the children were jabbering away and we suggested they close their eyes to take a nap. After protesting vigorously that they were not tired for about sixty seconds, all got quiet and I turned around to see them fast asleep.

When I first moved to the South seven years ago, I'd fly home and feel relief as our plane was descending into the California airport that I was finally home. Slowly, glacially, as the years have passed, I've felt a bit in both worlds. And on this trip home, I actually felt rather out of place now, that my home is more in Charlotte. And even saying that seems like a betrayal to the town and state where I lived for 28 years!

Signs That I Am I in California

. . . besides the people in the San Francisco airport who were so decidedly "California" to my eyes!

State laws requiring that fast food restaurants list their calories on the menu

An eco-friendly sod roof on a hip business in a major Bay Area city, and then this windmill

As we drove the hour and a half from San Francisco to Sacramento, John remarked, "Look, big mountains! Do they have grizzly bears in those mountains?!" I laughed at my little Southern flatlander and remembered fondly my amazement when I first moved to the South and heard people talk about this or that "mountain," which to my plain California eyes were hills. So, I explained to my sweet boy that he was looking at foothills, not mountains.

I always have such fondness to see the often humble but nonetheless beautiful native plants along the highways of northern California: bottlebrush, oak trees, mustard, thistle. We drove past a stretch of towering palm trees and John gasped, "Are those real palm trees?" Yes, they are!

The kids have already tried out the hotel swimming pool and are very pleased.

Sixteen and a half hours after they awoke (but who's counting?), the children were blessedly asleep for the night.