Last Thursday I called my mom to chat, and when she asked me where I was, I flat out lied. I told her I was just running around town doing errands, but really, I was on my way to the airport, on my way to the west coast, to surprise her for her birthday.
Was my favorite part of the flight the fact that I’d been assigned to the way back of the plane in a window seat – the very combo most likely to provoke motion sickness? Or maybe it was the toddler I sat next to, who screamed for about 4.5 hours straight? I’m not sure. Thank god for the iPod, I say.
Anyway, I arrived in Oregon safe and sound. My sister picked me up, we proceeded to her ranch, and spent the next day lazing around. She has sold her livestock, so the barn’s looking a little lonely.
*sniff*
No livestock guardian dogs barking at me from the gate. Again, *sniff*.
The next day, we set off for our two day drive down to Orange County. We prepared for our road trip by bringing along our favorite road trip companions.
We bombed down I-5, hell-bent for San Francisco. Here’s my first glimpse of Mt. Shasta.
A few dozen miles later, it loomed even larger.
And larger still.
Ah, Shasta.
Right around here is where I got pulled over for speeding. My first speeding ticket, ever. While not denying full responsibility for my actions, can I just say, I blame the SUV. It’s so powerful, and so quiet…very easy to make wee little mistakes. Gulp.
Happy camper.
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