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And you’ll hear about all the good parts of my trip soon, I promise! But first I must say that cleaning up after camping is a huge chore! There is sand everywhere, and I’ve been doing laundry since sunrise this morning, and it’s STILL not done!

Since I haven’t had the time to put together a good post for you, go check out the first Carnival of Mothers & Daughters at Real Life! Lots of people participated, and I can’t wait to read all the posts! I participated with An Open Letter to my Daughter.

So, make yourself a cup of hot tea, have a seat, and read all about Mothers & Daughters. I’ll be back tomorrow with my camping adventures!

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If you haven’t read about the first part of my trip, you can catch up on getting there, the party, and breakfast.  After a 36 hour whirlwind, it was finally time to go home.

One would think that getting home would be the easy part.  Not so.  Being the detail oriented person that I am, I didn’t pay close attention to my schedule for the flight home until I was actually in Phoenix.  I had a 90 minute layover in L.A., and I had to CHANGE AIRLINES.  *gasp*  I was scared.

My aunts, who travel frequently, assured me I would be OK.  Still, there seemed to be some hesitation in their expressions.  I had never been to LAX before, but I had heard that it was a HUGE airport.  Still, I had 90 minutes.  No problem.

My brother got me to the Phoenix airport nice and early.  Really early.  So early there was no line.  I checked in with United and got my boarding pass.  Then I had a brilliant idea and walked over to Alaska Airlines and got my boarding pass for my flight out of L.A. also.  One less thing to take care of during my layover.

I said goodbye to my brother and breezed through security.  I had 90 minutes to kill before my flight took off.  I called my husband and chatted with him and the kids.  I got a sandwich from the snack bar for dinner.  Finally it was nearing the time to board the plane.  One of the airline employees came around and informed everyone that our plane was especially small, and we’d have to check our carry-on baggage as we got on the plane.  Not to worry, she assured us.  Our baggage would be available to us as soon as we got off.  We wouldn’t have to wait at the luggage carousel. 

As I boarded the plane, I hesitantly handed over my suitcase.  I knew this would cost me precious moments in L.A. that I couldn’t afford to lose.  The flight from Phoenix to Los Angeles was short and uneventful, save for a little turbulence.  Since I had a seat at the back of the plane, I was one of the last off.  Then I had to wait 10 minutes to get my luggage.  And I was off.  I needed to get from terminal 8 to terminal 3, and I had about an hour to do it.

I frantically looked around for an airport employee.  Finally I found one.  "What’s the fastest way to get to terminal 3?" I asked.  He told me to take the "8" bus.  At least I thought he said "8".

I made a mad dash for the escalator.  When I got downstairs, I saw an official looking person.  To be on the safe side, I asked for directions again.  "Follow those guys," the official said, motioning toward two 20-something men walking away from me.  I took off, hot on their tales.

The downstairs area of the airport was surprisingly empty, except for me and the two guys.  "This is going to be a piece of cake," I thought.  I followed the men outside.  It was dark.  There were people EVERYWHERE.  And there were more types of shuttles than I could count on my fingers AND toes!  I panicked.

I kept following the guys.  They stopped to ask directions.  I asked directions, too.  The person I asked said, "Follow those guys."  I followed.  I swear, they must have thought I was some middle-aged stalker woman.  But I kept following them.  They stopped.  I stopped.  They decided they were in the wrong place and moved on.  I followed.

Finally a bus pulled up.  The "A" bus. They guys got on.  I said a quick prayer and followed.  "Does this bus go to terminal 3?" I asked the driver.  He looked at me like I was nuts and nodded yes.  I sank back into one of the seats and prayed that the bus would get where I needed to go and quickly.

As the bus began making it’s way around the airport, I overheard a woman talking.  She sounded worried.  "I don’t know if I’m going to make my connection to Oregon," she lamented.  "Oregon?" I asked, "I’m going there too."  I had found a friend.  We figured two heads were better than one, and together, surely we’d make our connection.

When we finally arrived at terminal 3, we knew we had to hurry.  My new friend still needed to get her boarding pass.  I offered to go on ahead and tell the person at the gate that she was on her way.  She nodded gratefully, and stopped to get her pass.  I headed for security.  There was a long line of people with suitcases.  After standing in line for 5 minutes, I finally asked if this was where I was supposed to be if I wanted to board the plane.  Another guy looked at me like I was crazy and said, "no, that’s upstairs."

I panicked again and RAN up the escalator.  As I got up to security, my friend was right in front of me.  And we were still on time.  Barely.  She sailed through security.  I figured I would too.  After all, I had been through security 3 times in the past two days with no problems.  But they sent my suitcase through twice.  And they kept looking at it.

My friend offered to go on ahead to tell the person at the gate that I was waiting.  I nodded gratefully.  Finally the official had to search my bag to make sure my camera batteries weren’t a hand grenade or something.  After clearing security I ran for the gate.  I looked at the boarding pass I had gotten in Arizona.  Gate 32.  I got to gate 32.  There were employees there, but there was no flight number posted.  I asked if it was the right gate.  They sent me to gate 34.

Finally, I was in the right place, boarding pass in hand.  Everything would surely be smooth sailing from here.  Our plane boarded.  As we walked into the boarding area, a couple of airline employees looked at our tickets and crossed  names off their official looking papers.  Very low tech.

I sat down in my seat, anxious to be home.  There seemed to be some confusion among the airline employees at the front of the plane.  Finally one of them announced that we would need to take a roll call, because the number of people they had marked off their list didn’t match the number of people actually on the plane.  Very reassuring.

Finally, we were able to take off, and the rest of my flight was uneventful.  I arrived home shortly before midnight, gave my husband and kids kisses, and collapsed into bed.  It was a long 48 hours, but my trip was worth it.  It was a great time, and it made a great story to tell the kids someday.  I just won’t be doing it again anytime soon.

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Sunday morning we recuperated from our busy Saturday by sleeping late.  We met my family at 10:30 for breakfast at the Village Inn in Phoenix.  I was in the first car to arrive. My aunt asked for a table for 14.  I was amazed at how quickly they got the table ready.  The hostess seated my Aunt Pat, my mom, Brad, and me, and we waited for the others to arrive.

The waitress came over to see if she could get us anything to drink.  My Aunt Pat said "we’re still waiting for the others to arrive."  Nadia, the waitress, made a sweeping motion toward all the empty chairs at the table, and said in a condescending yet humorous tone, "I never would have guessed!"

We all looked at each other in shock, then burst out laughing.  The tone for the morning had been set.

Before I go on, I must tell you that my whole family is obnoxiously funny.  We’re loud.  We take digs at each other, but always in good humor.  But sometimes we get a little out of hand, and it can take a very strong person to put us in our places.  Nadia was that person.

The rest of my family arrived at the restaurant, and immediately my Uncle Ted noticed that my brother, the only other guy in the group, was sitting at the head of the table.  Uncle Ted sauntered on over to Brad and said "How did you get the head of the table, Scruff?"  My brother said, "Because I’m the man!"  My Uncle Ted, not to be outdone, immediately took the chair at the other side of the table.

Soon, Nadia came back to take our orders.  She stood next to Brad and whispered, "What’s his name?", motioning towards Uncle Ted.  Brad grinned.  "Ted," he answered.

"TED!" bellowed Nadia.  And every single person in the restaurant sat up straight.  Ted looked shocked.

"What will you have to drink, and don’t give me no lip!" ordered Nadia.  Our entire group busted up laughing.  Ted answered, "Yes Ma’am!  I’ll have a coffee and a water."

The rest of the breakfast went much the same way.  Our family laughing and joking, and Nadia playing right into it.  She even told us some pretty good jokes over the course of the morning.  And after breakfast, Ted even carried the dishes into the kitchen for her.  That’s how good she was.  And she got a very good tip for putting up with our obnoxious family.

Here’s a shot of my family, minus me, of course.  You can even see Nadia in the background waiting on another table.

If you’re ever in the Phoenix area, I’d highly recommend the Village Inn on West Northern.  And ask for Nadia.   You’ll have a meal you’ll never forget.

If you missed the stories about the beginning of my trip, go here and here.

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I was a little nervous when I received the invitation to the party.  It read in part, "Informal Program:  ‘Who Put the TEA in Eternity?’" and said that the special guest speaker "…is a Minister of Tea whose Ph.D. stands for ‘Pretty Hot Dame.’  She did her research on the intrinsic healing qualities of large jewelry and anything leopard…".  You have to understand that to my very conservative family, this sounded like some new age production, or worse, a pre-funeral for my aunt, who has cancer.

We arrived at the party, determined to make it an upbeat affair.  It turns out we had nothing to worry about.  We socialized with the other guests, and I got to catch up with my aunt, uncle, and a couple of cousins I hadn’t seen in a while.  We had a "dinner" of cake and ice cream with every topping you can imagine.  It was delicious, but by the time the program started, we were all giddy from our sugar highs.

Then she came out.  The Rev. Dr. Toolie Rogers.  The Minster of Tea and Pretty Hot Dame.

Let me tell you, this woman was FUNNY!  She spoke of adversiTEA, humiliTEA, hilariTEA, and all the TEAs that make us who we are.  She spoke of how our memories will live on for eterniTEA.  And then she got to the memories.  Each person who came to the party filled out their ending to the following sentences:  "I could have died laughing when…" and "One moment that will live forever for me was when…"

We heard about the time my Aunt Pat drove from Oregon to Idaho…and ended up in Denver.  (I guess the lack of direction runs in the family)  Then on the way back she got caught speeding (93 in a construction zone) and ran over a pylon.  We also heard about how she would go cruising the strip with her friends in high school…and when they stopped at a stoplight, she would pretend to pick her nose.  Yes, my Aunt Pat has always been the funny one in the family.

As the presentation came to an end, my aunt was given a purple "robe" to wear.  The only think missing was the tiara.

We stuck around for a few pictures, and then it was time to head back to the hotel.  My brother, of course, didn’t trust me with directions, so we followed my Aunt Pat.  I’m not sure how wise that was.  As we drove back into town, my brother noticed that my aunt had missed the correct turn.  At the next stoplight, my brother got out of the car and rapped on my aunt’s window.  All the while, my mom was yelling from the back seat of our car, "BRAD!  BRAD!  GET BACK IN THE CAR!!!!"  I was dying laughing.

Brad got back into the car, and we began following my aunt again.  Turns out my aunts in the other car were so busy talking, they forgot to pay attention to where they were going.  No problem.  We were now on the right track.  Or so we thought.  We went right past the entrance to the condo where my mom and aunts were staying.  Brad had a frustrated look on his face, but kept following Aunt Pat.  She pulled into a nearby church parking lot, and started doing donuts with her car.  Yes, my sixty-something aunt was doing donuts in a church parking lot.

Brad and I looked at each other and burst out laughing.  If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, so we did our own donuts.  My mom was still freaking out in the back seat.

We made it back to the condo and said goodnight to everyone.  You’d think this was the highlight of the trip, but there’s more.  Stay tuned for "Breakfast".

Oh, and did I mention that my family is weird?  We’re a lot of fun, though.

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I’ve been down with a nasty cold the last couple of days, and I can’t seem to put two coherent thoughts together to form a post.  I hope to be back to my regular blogging self in the next day or two.  Thanks for hanging in there with me!

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All morning I’ve been pondering what I should tell you about my trip.  I finally came to the conclusion that I couldn’t fit it all in one post.  You have to understand my extended family for that.  They’re funny.  Really funny.  They provided me with so much blog fodder in 48 hours that there’s no way it will fit in one post.  So this is the first in a series about my trip.

It began at 4 am Saturday morning.  I was worried that I wouldn’t wake up to the alarm, so I set the beeper to high.  I didn’t realize that the high setting was so loud.  I think I jumped 10 feet when the alarm went off.  At least I woke up.

An hour later I picked up my mom and headed to the airport.  We hiked through the dark and mostly empty parking lot to the terminal, not thinking there would be many people there at 5:15 on a Saturday morning.  When we got to the glass doors, we realized how wrong we were.  There were huge lines of people.  I had no idea so many people even lived in our small town!

Fortunately most of the people were flying United, and we were flying Delta.  Our line was clipping along at a pretty fast pace until we were 3rd in the line.  A couple with a little boy walked up to the counter.  They must have had 6 huge bags between the 3 of them.  It seems they had missed their flight the previous day and were now trying to get on this flight.  It took a while to find them seats, but they got on.  They needed to show their IDs.  It took them a while to find them.  Then they needed to weigh the bags.  It took a while to get the bags into a position where they could be weighed.  People were getting impatient.  Finally another line opened, and we were able to get our boarding passes.  Thank goodness.

The flight went pretty quickly and we got to Salt Lake City to make our connection.  Navigating the Salt Lake City airport was a piece of cake.  We quickly found the right gate and waited to make our connection.  Our plane boarded a little late, but we weren’t concerned.  However, we seemed to be sitting on the plane without moving a little longer than normal.  At first watching the two 20-something flight attendants flirt with each other was amusing, but then I began to wonder what was wrong.  Shortly thereafter an announcement was made.  "We’re sorry for the delay.  The pilot who was supposed to fly this plane today called in sick.  We have found a substitute pilot, but his plane from Denver was supposed to have landed 35 minutes ago.  We hope to get you in the air soon."  Not very encouraging.

We took off an hour late.  The highlight of the flight was flying over the Grand Canyon.  I had never seen it before.  It’s huge!  I’ll have to go back someday, so I can see it up close.

Though we took off an hour late, we landed in Phoenix only 40 minutes late.  I quipped to my mom that Delta must not want to pay the pilot overtime.  We had a good laugh.  My brother met us at the gate.  We rented a car, dropped our stuff at our hotel, and then set out to meet our family.

Now there’s a huge joke in my family that I am terrible at giving directions.  I have no idea where they get that, but I was determined to change my reputation.  Before I left home, I printed out directions on Mapquest.  We set out to the house where my mom and aunts were staying.  I confidently read the directions for my brother.

"Turn left on Rancho"  We missed Rancho, and had to flip a u-turn at Bethany Home to backtrack.
"Rancho will turn into 10th"  Rancho never turned into 10th, but we found 10th anyway.
"Turn right on Bethany Home"  Wait.  The same Bethany Home where we just made the u-turn?  Yep, that’s the one. 
My brother looks at me.  "Wouldn’t it have just been easier to turn on Bethany Home in the first place?"
"Um, I guess so, but that’s not what the directions said.  Now turn left on 9th, and it will turn into Soriano."  We turn.  There’s no Soriano.  My brother looks at me and rolls his eyes.  I blush.

Finally, my brother uses his pizza delivery driver skills to find the correct address.  Turns out the Mapquest directions were a bit off, and I didn’t redeem myself after all.  My brother will no longer let me touch the map.  And of course this story was told to all my aunts as soon as we arrived.  They all laughed at my bad sense of direction.  I laughed too.  That’s just the way we are.

Up next:  The Party.

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It was a wild weekend!  I flew out bright and early Saturday morning and was in Phoenix by noon.  I had a great time visiting family that I haven’t seen in too many years, and the party for my aunt was a lot of fun.  After hanging out with family all day yesterday, I flew home last night.  I had a harrowing experience trying to make my connection at LAX, but in the end it turned out OK (that’s a post in itself).  I arrived home around midnight last night. 

I’m very tired, but I hope to be back to my normal posting self tomorrow.  Then maybe I’ll relay some of my stories from the weekend.

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I’m leaving my family this weekend.  No, I’m not walking out on them.  I’m going to a family event in Phoenix, AZ by myself.  I have mixed feelings about it.  It’s kind of exciting to get away.  I haven’t been on a plane in 14 years!  I’ll also get to catch up with members of my extended family that I haven’t seen in a long, long time.

It will be bittersweet, though.  The party is for my aunt, who has colon cancer.  From what I understand, it’s pretty serious at this point.  I know this will probably be the last time I see her, and that will be sad.  Still, she’s lived a long, full life, and she is a Christian, so I know this is not the end.  And she seems to be at peace with her prognosis.

It’s going to be a quick weekend.  My plane takes off at 6:30 Saturday morning, and I’m due to arrive back home at 11:30 Sunday night.  Monday is going to be a rough day.  Do you think the kids will let me nap?  I know.  Wishful thinking.

Now, to wade through all the current airline regulations, so I don’t get stopped by airport security….

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