It all started back during the Christmas holiday. All of our family was home, which was wonderful. One evening as we were all having dinner, the subject of how everyone was returning to their homes cropped up. Son and Daughter-in-law, and Daughter#2 and Son-in-law had an easy zoom-north-on-the-freeway trip. Daughter#1 had a flight booked to take her back to San Francisco. During the conversation about the kids' upcoming journeys, John sat back in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and adopted a thoughtful expression.
"Hey. How about we DRIVE Daughter#1 back home? Via Las Vegas?"
Earlier in our marriage, I would have been astounded at the thought of traveling south through Oregon and over to Nevada as a route to San Francisco. But after all these years I know my husband....and how he takes enormous pleasure in getting behind the wheel of a car and driving for leg-cramping, mind-numbing distances. He justifies this by pointing out that Goldie gets exceptional gas mileage: averaging between 40 -- 50 mpg.
Daughter#1 has inherited this um.....interesting....enjoyment of excruciating long car trips. "COOL, Dad! I'll call the airline and cancel my flight!"
I blinked. How did this get decided? "Wait a MINUTE, guys......"
But they were both off and running; John rubbing his hands in glee before he grabbed his well-thumbed copy of a road atlas, and D#1 speed-dialing Virgin Airlines.
Fast forward several days and several boring travel details: as I published yesterday's post, John and I were sitting in a casino playing video poker and enjoying a few adult beverages. This place in particular makes a delightful bloody mary, just the way I like it: only slightly spicy but very tangy, and with extra olives. As in a whole other glass-full of olives on the side. Mmmmmm. A salad in a drink.
Suddenly I realized that I hadn't put anything up on Reasonably Well. I lamented the fact that my brain was completely non-functioning to John, who immediately volunteered to dictate that day's post. Which he did. Which is what I put up on the blog. Which was rather strange, I admit.
I woke up the next morning with a furry tongue, a headache, and a decidedly cranky attitude.
"WHY do I feel as though I have a hangover?" I mumbled into my pillow. Crankily.
"Gee. Maybe because you have a hangover?" John suggested with a wicked gleam in his eye.
I had to think about that as I burrowed my face deeper into the pillow. Was it possible.....that.....I just.....
"Oh, man. That's so pathetic!"
"What? I thought it was a nice evening!" John protested.
"No. It's pathetic that I couldn't remember why I would have a hangover!" I sat up. Then flopped back down on the bed.
"So......I remember having a bloody mary with lots of olives."
John nodded. "Yes. I think you had several."
"No. Bloody mary's."
It came back to me in a rush as I stuck my arm out and blindly groped for my water bottle. As I drained fully a half of it's contents, I realized that yes, I did indeed have a few adult beverages. But just a few. Really. These days it only takes one or two to make me feel the effects the next day.
After an eye-opening shower, we hit the road for the return freeway marathon after filling Goldie up with gas, and me up with breakfast and coffee. Whew. The ride was fairly uneventful with one exception. I was playing solitaire on my phone as the miles rolled by, when John snorted with laughter.
"Hey, Babe! Look at the trailer packed with ostriches!"
"Yeah, right. MmmHmmm. Sure thing, honey."
"No, really! Look!"
Guys. He was right. Seriously. We laughed the rest of the way home.
Ahhh. Nothing like an unexpected ostrich sighting to liven up a road trip.
So. This may explain not only yesterday's weirdo post, but also my unavailability over the last few days in responding to emails or comments on Reasonably Well.
But I'm BACK! See y'all tomorrow.