Boy, Do I Have Stories to Tell

Ever go on vacation and run into a hurricane? Well, me neither, but there's a first time for eveything. Even before our Amtrak train cancelled the return trip from Orland to Houston, leaving tomorrow, I'd decided that I would sooner gnaw off my own arm with my own teeth than ride the train again with a two-year-old. So, I have a flight scheduled to leave on Monday, all the way home to Seattle, where the temperature is a mild sixty-five or seventy degrees, as God intended summer should be.

Did I mention the heat index was 106 degrees yesterday here at the Happiest Place on Earth?

Well. Let's just say I hate saunas.

All that said, we have a lot of happy memories and some not so happy, like when I sat at in the midst of the Rainforest Cafe' with my three boys and cried. They didn't even notice for about twenty minutes. The next day, however, their behavior was impeccable. Nothing like a little emotional blackmail to whip kids into shape, especially when kicking them really hard in the shins is frowned upon.

So, I'll be home soon. This is costing me sixty-nine cents a minute or I might ramble on and on. See you soon.