KirstenL4W

This past weekend Mister and I went to the San Francisco Bay area.  He grew up there, and we’ve been a few times before, but this time he brought me to a new place: his parent’s house.  We were scheduled to have a luncheon in the garden with his parents and a few friends who live in the area.  On the way up there Friday afternoon, and well into the evening (it’s a long drive from Vegas), we took a slightly more scenic route so we could take a quick tour of the town he spent many summers at.  The tiny farming community hadn’t changed much, except for the truck stops, but it was cool to see.  Mister was so animated as he was going through pointing out what used to be where, and showed me the family farm (it’s still in the family).  It was pretty cool, even though it was dark out.  We want to go back during the day so we can visit the tiny museum and actually see the place in the light.

We got to the bay area rather late.  Checking into our hotel, we had to sign a no-party disclaimer.  Kinda strange, especially considering that it’s not situated that closely to any sort of establishment that would attract a partying crowd.  After not sleeping very well due to the world’s softest bed, (this was not some fleabag motel, either - we stay at Marriots) we checked out and went on a tour of Mister’s hometown.  He showed me his schools, his first apartment, some properties his parents own, and a few other places related to the History of Mister.  His town is such a charming little place - the kind of place you see in the movies, with lovely houses and sidewalks that people actually walk on and all sorts of stuff like that.  But then we drove down to San Jose to visit the family business.  San Jose is a grittier, rougher place, but fitting for a trucking company.  Mister showed me some of the stuff he worked on and I got to meet Hilda the watchdog.

After the tour, it was time to head back to Utopiaville for the luncheon.  My in-laws have a home with character that doesn’t look like all the other homes on the block, like here in Vegas.  They have trees and a lawn and plants that need water, and you can find the front door.  I got the tour of the house, saw Mister’s old boy-cave and my MIL’s artwork.  She does such awesome watercolors.  Mister was trying to go shopping to accessorize our house, but his mother would have none of that.  In the backyard, with its water feature and real goldfish, we set up the table on the covered patio for our luncheon, then we picked lemons from the lemon tree and made lemonade.  I’m totally serious!  My MIL has a lemon tree with the biggest freaking lemons I’ve ever seen.  We made lemonade with real lemons, not a container full of powder.  It was awesome, as was the luncheon outside on a day that was a tiny bit warm but had a gentle afternoon breeze.  Yes, my husband apparently grew up in a fictional land.

We spent the rest of the afternoon there, then headed to a hotel closer to the city with the intention of meeting up with some more friends, but that hotel was overbooked, so we went 10 miles south (away from SF) to a room paid for by the overbooked hotel.  Score!  It killed our plans on going into San Francisco, since it was so late and we had a long drive ahead of us on Sunday.  But that’s ok.  The sleep was much better.

On Sunday, we wanted to go down to the truck yard to get Mister’s toolbox.  He has 2 toolboxes there, and we were to get the smaller one, which would barely fit in the bed of the pickup.  But, we got a later start than we wanted and there was traffic on the 101 Freeway due to an accident, so we ended up missing my father-in-law.  That’s ok.  We were wondering how the heck we (as in my strong, manly man of a husband and me, a weak girly girl) were going to unload an incredibly heavy toolbox from the truck after driving 10 hours back home.  Another time, then.

My mom sent me the pictures she took at my wedding.  You can see those on my flickr page if you are on my friends list there.  Now I need to send her the good pictures and send my dad and my sister the pictures.  My sister has no idea what her brother in law looks like.  For now, though, it’s back to the grind.

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