Big goodbye, big drive, big city

So much has happened this month that I can't go into detail and I'm still in the middle of the madness so my head is still spinning. But we've had some great things, and some not so great, so here they are. I'm pretty sure I only took pictures of the great. Isn't that how it always works?



This important event happened:


We hiked to the Grotto--a delightful little waterfall/cave on Mt. Nebo. It was 50 degrees and the middle of June and right about this time I thought, I'm ready for Florida. 


Jacob and Leah tried to go up a really steep part of the trail. This was the only way they made it down:


My lovely, sweet, way too mature, drama queen 10 year old had a birthday. She got some GREAT clothes from her aunt Jen and grandma, plus I made her a mermaid tail


Here are the tails. They can't wait to get to Miami to try them out on the beach. Jacob even offered to wear a merman tail if I made him one....this is so tempting. 



We went to Jacob's cousin's wedding at the Provo Temple and thought we'd take a nice pic in the back--didn't turn out that great. Ah well. 100 degrees in Utah feels very different than 100 degrees in Miami, by the way. The jury is still out on what I prefer.


I firmly believe, and have felt this for years, that Dead Horse Point is Utah's best place to visit. You cannot be prepared for how striking it is. Go there now. This was on our way out of town last Wednesday--almost a week ago--and it feels like a different life. 


We stayed our first night at a Holiday Inn somewhere between here and Texas and the end of the world. They gave us a "free upgrade to the honeymoon suite!", which means we scored this THING that we spent a good hour laughing about. 


It really reminded me of that Rolling Stone tongue:


This trip represented a lot of firsts--like my first time in the deep south. Louisiana has these road signs that are supposed to be in the shape of the state, but really look like little toilets. In fact, Louisiana is a lot like a  toilet, with its brown bayous everywhere. 



I had a lovely overnight stay in Vicksburg, Mississippi--one of the most beautiful and delightful little towns I've ever been to. My sweet friend let me stay with her and we had lunch on the river. I love her kids:


I made an accidental detour to New Orleans. I've always wanted to visit the French Quarter and have a beignet and hear some live jazz. I got all that, plus some crazy guy in a tutu and pink tights:


The beignet was ok, but not nearly as good for all the hype Cafe Du Monde gets. My mom's scones are way better. However, the muffaletta sandwiches are fantastic and made the drive worth it. I feel like I owe my dad something special for introducing me to live jazz music and green olive sandwiches. 


Don't worry, I didn't buy this shirt. But almost.


A corner full of people in random costumes. It gave me a small taste of what this place would be like during Mardi Gras. I kept walking around a little shocked and dumbfounded, which doesn't usually happen to me in a new place. It was unpredictable--I didn't necessarily feel unsafe, just that ANYTHING could happen here and you could, very literally, be or do anything you want. The historical aspect was very interesting to me, though. 


I took this picture of Bourbon Street at sunset before I left. I drove past the Lower Ninth Ward just to see hurricane damage for myself. It's there and the damage is very real. For some reason, the whole experience of wandering around the French Quarter shook me up a bit. Maybe it was the heat or maybe I was completely unprepared for the number of really wacky people I would see. When I met up with Jacob that night (because I was there alone), all I could say was, "The Big Easy wasn't that easy." Then the next morning, I found out the 9 people got shot on Bourbon Street just 6 hours after I left. I think I'm still processing that one.


Overall, it took us nearly 40 hours and 5 days of driving to get to Miami. We drove in separate cars and my lovely girls are spending a few more weeks with their dad. It was lonely and I reached a level of psychosis that is probably similar to what people in jail feel. My mind started to think in a very primitive way-- simple thoughts that would take a long time to pick through. "I know! I'll spend the next six hours listening to all my Broadway musicals" or "I wonder if it's worth stopping to find the peanuts" or "I think I'll carve my name out of pretzels" during which time I actually PULLED OUT A POCKET KNIFE AND STARTED CARVING PRETZELS ON THE FREEWAY. IN THE FLORIDA PANHANDLE. I never finished the project and eventually came to my senses and put the knife away. 

So we're here. It's sticky, muggy hot with some fairly amazing daily thunder/lightening storms. I will post again in a few days after I've come out of culture shock. There are many lizards and peacocks. Traffic.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

NYE

New Year’s Eve 2009: Mapleton, UT I left Brian  in Logan and took the girls down to visit my parents for the new year. I felt bad and I felt relieved. I needed a break from him. We didn’t have money for food. He spiraled and never climbed out.  New Years Eve 2014: Mapleton, UT I went to Utah with my girls and left Jacob in Miami. He could have come but made up an excuse about studying and visiting his dad instead. Always talked about visiting his dad—alone— when I talked about a family visit. New Year’s Eve consisted of me, my parents and Stephen and laurel. There might have been some others that left earlier. I took no pictures. The new year rang in and felt so alone and empty. Did Jacob even care?  New Years Eve 2015: Vancouver, WA Pregnant with Lucy, unable to work, Jacob had just failed the most important test that would allow him into residency, I decided to wait out the remainder of the pregnancy at my parent’s new house. This move was one of the most humiliating ex...
Read more

Parent Teacher Conference

Dear Mom, You left 4 months ago. You clearly didn't mean to leave when you did, with your shoes sitting by the door and your unfinished paper boxes of chocolates for Relief Society. No one else wants to hear how the girls are doing. No one else has lived with us for so long and understands them and the dynamics of my family like you do. I've retreated into my own silence and my own world, desperately trying to survive each day--sometimes each hour--knowing that although so many friends and family care (and I couldn't survive without their support), there is really no one left that has experienced firsthand the horror story I'm starring in. We had parent teacher conferences last night at Leah and Hannah's school. We had to bring Lucy, who wet her pants twice and cried to go home. Here's a summary of teacher comments: HANNAH: *a natural leader *most well-liked student *grades range from 85 (one class) to 93-99 (every other class) *no missing assignment...
Read more

3 Years

Image
The social media version: “A new burger place in Park Slope— pretty good but girls still love Black Tap better. I love the exposed brick and VW van counter.” The reality: We were supposed to go to burgers last night to remember Dad on the 3rd anniversary of his death. I was very sick this weekend. Leah had a fever of 105— I’m gonna day that again— 105 and Lucy was being picked up by her clown father. No one was ok. We somehow made it out of the house today but we could hardly talk about Dad/Grandpa. Hannah regrets that she doesn’t remember much. Leah is deeply grieving a very special connection they had. She cries silently. I am physically wasted with a chest cold, anxious about how Lucy is doing at her dad’s house and too broken to help anyone. Our world went dark three years ago and the light hasn’t come back on.  The social media version: I can’t even write it because it’s not in my nature to sound so fake.  The reality:  Her clown father took her to a party for the g...
Read more