I apologize for the late party post, but I’m on California time (“and it’s time for me to quit her”), and I didn’t end up having the internet connection here that I expected to (blah, blah, blah, excuses, I know), but it turned out to be for veeeerrry good reasons, which I will share in a moment.
Anyhoo, after three different states (two on either coast and one in the middle) and one foreign country in less two months, I’m starting to feel like quite the jetsetter.
Of course, I’m not really, as I amply proved when I asked the airport security officer yesterday if I also needed to take my DSLR camera out of the bag when I removed my laptop and got a collective eye roll from him and everybody else in earshot.
Also, I think jetsetters don’t make rookie mistakes like bringing a pesto chicken sandwich onto the plane to eat, when one is in the middle seat (in my defense, I thought I was aisle), sandwiched (ha ha) between two other passengers in coach, who might not appreciate one’s fragrant cuisine or the fact that every single crumb that looses itself from one’s meal (and there were many) finds a home on one’s protruding belly (man, was that a yummy sandwich, though).
In my defense, though, I did manage to keep from hauling my pregnant self over anybody’s lap for the entire duration of the 3 hour flight (despite the minimum of 24 ounces of liquid that I imbibed during the flight).
Sure, my bladder and I may never be on speaking terms again, but I. did. not. get. up.
Oooooookay, not sure how this little one-sided convo of ours managed to devolve so quickly into a discussion of my body’s more basic functions (or lack thereof), but I’ll move on before I lose all of you for good.
I landed last night in Ontario (apparently, they have one of those in Cali too because I sure as peaches ain’t in Canada) and was greeted by this handsome man:
…who proceeded to carry my luggage and listen to me jabber away (a week alone with 3 littles tends to make you…chatty), right up until the moment that we walked up to this entrance—at which point, I stopped jabbering, turned around and looked at him wide-eyed, and said, “We’re staying…here?”
Here = Fairyland, otherwise known as the Mission Inn in Riverside, California, which has, among other things,
…a rooftop courtyard…
…with real lime trees…
…and pallet gardens…
…plus, there’s the ginormous stain-glassed window…
…lush profusions of flowers…
…pretty stone facades…
…and amazing and unique architectural details and vignettes at every turn…
I pretty much walked around with my head thrown back for thirty minutes, gawking in wonder while Shaun gently guided me away from sharp corners and walls.
That man is too good to me (and I don’t just mean because he keeps me from walking into stationary objects).
Anyhoo, I’ll be back to real life and no trips for quite.some.time (traveling with twins? hmmm…) as of Monday, but for this last weekend at least, I’m going to enjoy Fairyland to the fullest.
Hope your weekend is similarly enchanted. : )
Speaking of enchanted, you guys really captured my fancy with some fantastic projects and ideas from the last week’s party.
I could have gone on, but then I would have had to list all of the links, and that could get long.
You guys rocked it yet again, and I can’t wait to see what you have in store for me today!
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